


Devil Is Not As Black As He Is Painted

by Snapp, ZoinksSc00b



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Alpha Fox, Alpha Thorn, Alpha/Alpha/Omega, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, And Krell is a Shitty Person, Background Fives/Tup, Background Jessix, Blackmail, Childbirth, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Krell is a really shitty person guys, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Mildly Dubious Consent, Miscarriage, Miscommunication, Mpreg, Omega Dogma, Omega Tup, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Polyamory, Twins, Umbara is a Shitty Place, Unplanned Pregnancy, very very dubious borderline no consent
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-30
Updated: 2021-02-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:21:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 7
Words: 40,951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28412328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snapp/pseuds/Snapp, https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZoinksSc00b/pseuds/ZoinksSc00b
Summary: Fresh off Kamino, Dogma is eager to start his career as a trooper in the 501st battalion alongside his batchmate. A small problem arises when he gets his heat while on Coruscant and hooks up with the two highest-ranking members on the Coruscant Guard. Watch this utter disaster try to figure out life while pissing everyone in his vicinity off and his mates being pissed off at everyone but him. Further problems arise when General Pong Krell arrives on Umbara turning a hellish experience to a Krellish one.
Relationships: Dogma & CT-5385 | Tup, Dogma/CC-1010 | Fox/Clone Commander Thorn, Dogma/Pong Krell
Comments: 63
Kudos: 82
Collections: Commander Fox





	1. Prologue: It Was The Heat Of The Moment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dogma isn't having a time, what's new

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a short FYI, there's implied sexual harassment and later sex. Nothing explicit, the M rating is due later themes within the story.
> 
> We did this in discord messages, however there is a chat and it's so much fun and we could 10/10 recommend, come join us and stan Dogma, Thorn and Fox 
> 
> https://discord.gg/rsyXfyjp

Usually, when Thorn and Fox made their way to 79’s, they expected to have a nice relaxing break from their daily duties. They might find some unsuspecting brothers to play sabacc with them, too drunk to notice the dreaded insignia of the Coruscant Guard on their armor, and win a couple of credits to put to later use. When it was just Thorn and Fox, they didn’t get as blackout drunk as they would if Thire and Stone were there. They were prone to getting into drinking contests and making incredibly stupid bets while intoxicated. 

Thorn would be lying if he said he wasn’t the person who had come up with the majority of them, but it was through one of these bets he had ended up mating Fox so he couldn’t complain. 

Regardless, Thorn and Fox weren’t planning on doing any of those activities tonight. They just wanted to have a nice evening of getting slightly tipsy as they slowly molded further into each other. They preferred the booth furthest away from the entrance because it had the least amount of questionable stains. Thorn and Fox recalled those stains quite well. 

Of course, they weren’t talking about a booth in the public area of 79’s where any natborn who could open a door was allowed to roam about as they pleased. They were more interested in the private room in the back where only clones were permitted to go because it was the sole space where clone relations were to happen. 

Technically, clone relationships were illegal and a surefire way to get decommissioned, but it didn’t matter if they weren’t caught. The room existed to keep them from the natborn eye and Thorn honestly didn’t want some natborn to see him making out with his mate. 

By the time they were in the back room, there was already a considerable amount of vode there. It seemed that a couple had already stolen their idea and had made their way to a booth. Armor had found its way to the floor surrounding them as the couple had stripped down to their blacks and a couple of glasses had been abandoned on the table. The taller of the two straddled his partner’s lap as they made out: his hair was down so that fingers could find their way through locks. It wouldn't be long until the blacks also slipped off with how they were practically merging together. Thorn wolf-whistled at the couple as they passed which caused the clone on the bottom to tug at his partner’s long hair to elicit a moan. 

Thorn appreciated the show and the half-lidded glances sent toward him, but it resulted in Fox rolling his eyes and jabbing him in the ribs. That just made him laugh: a deep and loud and genuine laugh that Fox always loved, despite denying it many times, which usually caused Thorn to laugh harder.

His mate was such an adorable grump and Thorn adored him.

Honestly, the handsome couple almost distracted him enough to where he hadn’t noticed the sweet aroma floating around him. It was sharp and sugary, leaving Thorn a bit foggy as he turned his nose up to get a better whiff. He practically pulled Fox along with him as he followed the delicious smell that made his brain melt and his thoughts feel all gooey. 

It wasn’t long before they entered the refresher of the back room. It was full of graffiti from the various visiting battalions leaving their mark and dents from those too bashful to have sex in a booth but too drunk to get one of the free rooms. 

There was also the musk of horny alphas covering up the wonderful smell from before, so Thorn was a little bummed out. He enjoyed the scent: fabric softener with a light sweetness to it that was starting to affect Fox with its potency. 

There were six alphas crowded together in the corner of the refresher with various colors adorning their armor while some were in just plain civvies. Thorn didn’t find it so weird that a congregation of alphas was happening until Fox started growling at them, expressing his dominance in the low rumble and the overwhelming scent of caff he was letting out. Thorn thought it was incredibly hot when his mate reminded people of the power he held. 

The alphas backed away, Fox’s status as a pack alpha having an effect on the younger alphas. It drove them all back far enough so that Thorn could now catch a glimpse of the trembling omega the scent he had been following had originated from. One of the troopers had their nose lodged in his neck while another was lightly nipping his throat. Most of the troopers went back to touching the omega after briefly acknowledging the two who they assumed were going to join them. 

Thorn could hear the omega sniffling amongst the whispers of alpha and the movements of armor and cloth against each other. Even with the quick peek he had gotten, Thorn was able to note that the omega had no paint yet. 

The poor kid was only a shiny. 

Fox exchanged a look with Thorn, tilting his head to the sight in front of them. Thorn sighed: they were going to have to deal with this. He thought it was their time off, but they still had a duty and morals to uphold. 

Thorn was quick to shove his way through the group of alphas while Fox held them back from attacking Thorn. He basically ripped the last few off because they were persistent in being attached to the omega and his neck and his stomach and his hips and his thighs and his ass and his lips. 

When they were finally all behind him and Thorn was the one in front of the shiny, he looked him over. The kid was still quivering and his eyes were closed as tightly as possible. His hands were clenched at his sides, tears were beginning to pool over, and every part of his neck had been bruised and defiled. It was pure luck that no one had attempted to mate him and take him right in the refresher. 

If it had been one alpha, that most likely would have happened. A group created competition and, whenever anyone tried too much, they would be attacked. Based on the bloodied scratches and bruised eyes on the alphas, that had happened multiple times.

“Can you walk?” Thorn whispered, trying not to frighten the shiny further. 

The omega opened their eyes slowly, his gaze glazed over as they tried to process who the alpha was in front of him. For a moment, he presented his neck to Thorn, but that caused the alpha to shake his head.

The omega was confused by the refusal but seemed to finally process Thorn’s previous question as he began to slowly walk forward. He gripped against Thorn’s arms while he did so, requiring someone to steady him. 

Fox had already managed to growl and threaten the alphas out of the refresher. Thorn couldn't recognize all of them, but Fox knew their commanders and wasn’t one to back away from arresting even while off work. All that made it easier to get the omega out of the space. At most, it was only easy for the refresher. 

The trip out of 79’s was full of those same alphas jeering at the kid. The poor thing just pushed his face into Thorn’s shoulder and held on tighter. Fox and Thorn were both infuriated by the comments they heard. The alphas weren’t ashamed of how their words slurred and it seemed almost as if they liked the sound of their own voices too much. There wasn’t much variety beyond numerous taunts of “bitch” and “slut” and “whore” that made the omega whimper against him. However, it was the threats of forcing a few pups in him and the jealousy of the two high-ranking alphas getting to knot him that made their blood boil. 

Thorn had to pick the omega up after their legs gave out because of the comments, leaving tear tracks against the front of his armor as the shiny curled into him. Once again, shutting his eyes to block out everything that was hurting him.

Getting out into the cool weather that was winter in Coruscant was a relief. The alphas stopped following them, grumbling as they retreated into the building to find some other helpless omega. Fox shook his head in disappointment and rage, planning on finding out who they were later and giving them hell. 

Thorn almost dropped the shiny when his honey-gold eyes peaked up at him and he spoke for the first time. It was foolish of him to think he would remain silent the entire time. 

“Wait, my brother. I can’t-I can’t leave without him. He’ll get worried,” the shiny whimpered out while frantically surveying around for the aforementioned brother. He cried a bit into Thorn when he couldn’t find him. If he wasn’t so out of it, they would’ve gone back to see if they would find him, but the omega in their arms took priority. 

Clearly, the brother didn’t care enough to notice his brother had disappeared and was being assaulted in the refresher at 79’s. 

They walked with him back to the halls, passing by a few of their own troopers with a nod. 

Fox tapped in his code on the lift, stepping in and waiting for Thorn and the man in his arms. Thorn held him tighter as the kid continued to whimper and shake in his arms, mumbling unintelligibly to himself. 

When the elevator opened Thorn sighed in relief, they were almost there. Fox took the lead and opened the door, locking it behind them. 

Thorn put him down, letting him sit on Fox’s desk. Fox took up a position behind him, wrapping around him with a soft rumble. 

A deep rumble that was returned with a pitched whine and some whimpering.

Thorn bypassed them and walked over to grab a blanket. He was looking for one of the nicer ones they loaned to Thire during his heats; he stood and wrapped it around his shoulders. He melted into the soft fabric and gave a pitched whine, curling into Fox’s arms with a light purr.

He stared at the younger trooper as he shivered, leaning all his weight against Fox. His condition was obvious and the visible confusion and distress showed Thorn that the trooper was not aware of what was happening to him.

Fox began playing with the omega’s hair as the other man whined. His mouth opened as he moaned and leaned back into Fox’s warm hands. 

“S’hot, why is it so hot?” he whined, shaking in Fox’s arms, “Why won’t they leave me alone?” 

Fox curled around him and nuzzled his bonding gland. He panted against Fox, leaning back into him as his hips moved slightly. 

Through slow easy coaxing, they got him to explain symptoms, just to be sure. 

Feverish, check

Feeling slick and wet, check.

Sweating, check

Heightened sexual desire, check

This poor omega was in his first mature heat. 

Thorn couldn’t help but be slightly pissed off. He had heard that when omegas finally reached sexual maturity and had their first real heats it was an agonizing experience, especially without an alpha or partner there. There was also the added insult that he had been harassed in the refresher at 79’s while going through this.

Yeah, Thorn was going to be having some words with the few men that he recognized. 

Fox breathed deeply before taking another sniff and leaning back. Thorn took a step forward and stepped between his legs, his nose replacing Fox’s as he took a turn to scent.

He smelled amazing up close, like newly washed blacks as well as a hint of lemon tea. Thorn couldn’t help but get lost in it, wondering how Fox was able to pull off long enough to talk. 

He could barely hear Fox telling the omega that he was starting his heat, but he was able to register the body against him tensing in shock and his scent starting to sour lightly. Thorn lifted his head to look up at him, his own brandy colored eyes meeting blown golden ones.

“I-what?” He gasped out, looking weary up at the two of them. 

Fox and Thorn exchanged a quick look, and nodded.

They _could_ try and find the kid’s pack, and it’s what they should do. However, as his heat began to take over, it would be detrimental to his health to move him. 

Not to mention they both knew that not one but two alphas rejecting him would probably be a crushing blow to such a young omega. The fact that they were such high-ranking alphas, even if they weren't in this shiny’s pack, would produce a considerable sense of rejection.

They would have to help in whatever way that he approved of. 

Fox seemed to come to the same conclusion and pressed his face to Thorn’s in a small Keldabe. They nodded and turned to the shiny.

“Do you know what is about to happen?” Fox asked quietly and the omega shook his head. 

Ah, _yes_ , Kamino’s subpar sexual education. Thorn felt for him. His first rut was such a confusing time, and then when he finally reached full maturity...that was a...that was a time. Fox’s and his ruts usually synced up. They both walked out of that very bloody and angry.

They worked through it.

Eventually.

Thorn nipped his neck and shut his eyes as Fox explained what would happen and what his body would do. 

What would need to happen for it to stop quickly.

What they could do to help dull the pain.

What the results of that might be.

And what would happen if they went the long route and just left him in the nest alone. 

Both watched him shiver and cry. His fear and pain were palpable, and both Thorn and Fox felt their hearts hurt for him.

Ruts were not a fun experience, but they’ve had each other since cadethood. All this trooper seemed to have was a bunch of brothers harassing him in a bar during preheat as he tried to get away.

Fox kissed him and then Thorn, smiling and looking back up at him, nuzzling into him. 

The kid took a deep breath and looked at the two of them before nodding to himself.

“Help me,” he cried, “Please, help me, s’hurts.” 

Thorn nodded and pressed a small kiss to his lips, his arms moving down to wrap around his thighs. Guiding them to wrap around his hips. Fox kissed the back of his neck with a soft smile.

He hefted the shiny up with a wink to a suddenly blushy Fox. 

They were gentlemen after all: they were not about to fuck an omega going through his first real heat on a _desk_. 

That would not work out, no sir. They were going to treat him right. 

First and foremost the best way to do that was to give him a den. Thorn brought them to Thorn and Fox’s shared room. The omega pressed his nose into Thorn’s neck. He shivered as he felt cold tears against his neck.

Fox was whispering into the comms, most likely telling Thire and Stone to take over for them for the night. 

His mate punched in their code and Thorn walked in. He heard the door lock behind him and the lights dimmed. Fox walked to the other side of the room, opening the small storage compartment and grabbing some bottles of water and ration bars. 

Thorn set him down in a chair, helping him lean as he whimpered really loudly. He worked quickly: grabbing blankets, pillows, and blacks from various locations. The usual things they used for ruts were tossed onto the bed.

Fox placed the rations on the nightstand as Thorn turned to go back to their guest. He lifted him bridal style and laid him down in the bed. He slumped in the sheets with a soft hiss, giving them a look. 

Both Thorn and Fox stepped to the side and turned, giving the omega some privacy to do his business. Nesting was something that omegas typically did on their own, and their partners had the simple job of scenting it afterward.

They heard a small chirp and some rustling before it all stopped. Both breathed in, coughing slightly at all the pheromones being released. 

The full heat was coming on. Thorn turned around first, Fox punching him in the arm, causing him to punch back. He heard a loud cry and they both turned to the shiny. 

He was slumped in the nest, shirt off and panting. 

Fox made the first step, Thorn following him, stripping. Both stood at the edge of the nest, waiting for instructions. 

The omega, seeming to enjoy their show, was clearly sick of them waiting. He pulled them in with a weak grip, softly pulling them to him. 

Both Fox and Thorn went willingly, Thorn curling around behind him while Fox leaned down in front of them. They both attacked available skin, Thorn kissing his neck while Fox nipped his jaw and ear.

His hands brushed across his ribs and stomach, old training scars and smooth skin created a delightful contrast on Thorn’s fingers. 

Fox’s and his hands touched and he gave Fox a small smirk. Fox rolled his eyes before returning to his task at hand. 

They laid him down and Fox took up a position behind his head while Thorn took off his pants. He had to hold in a slight chuckle. 

A small line of porgs with flower crowns were sketched above his ass. Thorn huffed and traced it with his thumb, wondering when he got this and whatever substances he was on because Thorn may or may not want some. He looked up at Fox, who looked at the line with amusement.

Fox licked his lips and gave Thorn a smirk, they were going to have a long night. 

* * *

Dogma didn’t know where he expected to wake up at. The last thing he remembered was feeling incredibly sick at 79’s, so “between two, very hot alphas” was not on his list of possible locations. He was laying on his side with an alpha on his back, their arms wrapped around his stomach, and an alpha on his front that had their face snuggled into his chest. 

A naked chest...there was nothing covering him. 

_Sithspit, where were his clothes?_

He felt like he was going to either scream or start sobbing, but he didn’t want to alert the alphas. He could still feel how he had been touched and used in the refresher after being separated from his batchmate. Trembling slightly, he tried to remember more than that, how he had ended up here, and he found a soft voice helping with a comforting grip.

But, that didn’t stop him from panicking. They may have been kind to him, but he had still fallen into bed with two, random alphas who had no idea who he was. Well, not random alphas because as he searched through his faint memory he recalled their faces.

They were the commanders of the Coruscant Guard. 

He had sex with Commander Thorn and Commander Fox. 

_Kark._

Force, he was such a desperate whore. 

Dogma couldn’t breathe, and whatever came out was stunted and took way longer than necessary to get air in. There was a fine layer of sweat and...other liquids...over him and he had never felt a fullness like this before. It was different from his times with Tup.

Why would they have sex with _him_ of all people? 

He wasn’t remotely attractive. He’s well aware that others thought he was kind of annoying and a little bit too aloof. Besides, everyone knew that they were alpha mates. They probably weren’t even into omegas and had only taken pity on him because of his heat.

 _His heat_.

He remembered that now. The warmth that had suffocated him and the way he moaned and whimpered like some five credit slut. He felt a lot more comfortable now so it must be over. He had never gone through a mature one before so he didn’t really know. He must have forced himself on them. There was no way they would have had sex with him if it wasn’t for the overwhelming pheromones. That was the sole reason the alphas at 79’s were all over him. 

Dogma needed to get out of there as soon as possible. He couldn’t bear to see their reactions to how revolting he was. When he tried to pry the arms off of him, they only tightened and Dogma was close to tears by that point. He just wanted to go back to the barracks and cry with his head in Tup’s lap. 

When he detected a soft brush of lips against his neck, Dogma tensed up. The alpha behind him had woken up and was peppering kisses on his nape. It felt _really_ nice and warm. Dogma could just snuggle back into his embrace and get lost in his warm skin, but there was still apprehension from before. 

It went away even more when the man against his chest nuzzled into it, causing Dogma to blush. The crimson warmth spread further when a hand reached up to cord through his hair which resulted in a light purr escaping his lips. He could understand why Tup loved the feeling. The weird tingling sensation was rather pleasant.

They smelled so cozy and wonderful. Ozone and rain on Kamino mixed with caf and those books in the Jedi temple library that ARC Trooper Fives and Lieutenant Jesse had brought to Tup and him.

He was safe in the arms of these alphas and he didn’t want to leave just yet. He was going to be in so much trouble when he returned to the 501st, but that was a problem for future Dogma. A Dogma who would need to get a whole pack of bacta patches to get rid of all of the hickeys and bruises on his body. 

He didn’t think he could walk because of how sore his entire being was. They had done a number on him and that was easy to tell without remembering it all. 

All he had to do was make sure he was presentable enough to get back before leave was over. Maybe he could enjoy the company of the alphas for a bit longer if they didn’t loathe him. 

He enjoyed feeling wanted, even if it was only temporary.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title from The Divine Comedy, can we get sued by dead people? Prolly not, but we ain't risking that shit


	2. Throwing Down And Throwing Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dogma learns that his actions do have consequences: mainly good ones.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi y’all! Just letting you know that ZoinksSc00b is doing odd chapters and Snapp is doing even chapters and then we're gonna beta the other’s chapter. We both wrote the prologue, but we are doin’ this for now.
> 
> Some of the OCs are ZoinksSc00b’s, others are Snapp’s, and there are a few we have joint custody over.

Dogma had almost wished that Commander Thorn and Commander Fox would’ve allowed him to stay longer. It was nice of them to walk him back to the visiting battalion barracks, but he wasn’t blind. He noticed how quick they had left him. As soon as they were in sight of the barracks, they disappeared. 

Just like everyone else. 

He desperately prayed that it was only because they didn’t want to be seen by Torrent, yet Dogma had never been the best at remaining optimistic. Maybe they hadn’t felt the same way when the shiny allowed himself to sink into the warmth of their embrace. It shouldn’t have surprised him that the two alphas had wanted him for sex and nothing more. 

The heat was seeming more and more like a dream: that love and adoration he experienced when drowning in musk; the whispers over how beautiful he was while the alphas peppered his skin with feverish kisses; the glances he had received as they made small talk during his return to the 501st; and all those subtle ways they tried to make sure he got the most pleasure out of the experience. It was all a fabrication. 

Dogma would be lying if he claimed he didn’t yearn to go back to the dream.

But, he went on with his life as smoothly as he could. The initial rejection as he watched Commander Thorn and Commander Fox walk away was intense, but he got through.

Tup being as worried as he had anticipated sort of helped. The punishment that might have been enacted because of his disappearance had been smothered by concern. It wasn’t the reaction he had expected from Torrent. 

The only thing resembling a penalty were the few hours where the resident medic, Kix, gave him a checkup and lectured him over the dangers of wandering Coruscant by himself. He was lucky to have returned unharmed from his first mature heat. Not many residents were fond of clones, but they were fond of vulnerable omegas. 

Dogma didn’t reveal anything about what had actually happened. If Kix had noticed Dogma wasn’t telling the truth, he didn’t say anything and maybe Dogma wished he would have. It would have shown he cared enough to understand and help. 

Tup didn’t leave his side for a while after the incident, apologizing for losing track of him. Tup shouldn’t have gotten distracted by Fives. 

They had chatted for a bit about the night Tup had while they sat on top of Dogma’s bunk, the younger humming out responses as he braided his brother’s hair. 

For a moment, he wondered how Thorn’s would look in the same braid, but such silly thoughts had to be pushed away. 

There was a lilt of pleasure as Tup spoke that couldn’t be hidden nor could the infatuation. Both of them had their first time with an alpha: Tup with Fives in a booth at 79’s and Dogma with Commander Fox and Commander Thorn. 

Of course, Dogma was happy for his brother finding someone. Tup and Fives had been dancing around each other ever since the initial deployment. There was just a tad bit of jealousy surrounding the situation that Dogma had brought up. 

Ever since they had been assigned to Torrent, it had felt like Tup was drifting from him. They had always had each other; they were all they had left after their batchmates died. Dogma couldn’t lose him too. It hurt watching Tup and Fives grow closer together, to witness how lovestruck they were, because he had foolishly hoped Tup would look at him with that same enamoration. 

Perhaps in another world they would have been together.

He obviously didn’t bring up the crush, only speaking of how detached he was from his brother. Tup had found a proper alpha instead of a weak omega who was incapable of doing anything right.

Dogma couldn’t comprehend what was wrong with their relationship though. Tup claimed Dogma needed more people in his life and so did Tup. His brother wanted to become a part of the Torrent pack and preferred Dogma being with him when that happened. He believed that at the rate they were going neither of them would be able to live without the other. He didn’t want Dogma to go like that. 

It was hard for Dogma to wrap his head around all this talk about codependency. Torrent and him were already off to a rocky start. His standoffish nature had ruined his chances; there was nothing to salvage. Tup’s defense felt more like an excuse to get rid of him. Tup had finally realized he didn’t need him and was throwing him away. 

He hated it so much.

There were times where Tup and him would be affectionate, but it wasn’t like before. The passion was gone and had been replaced with a division that might never be healed. 

Being with Commander Fox and Commander Thorn had reminded him how much he craved for another.

In a few ways, the commanders had been everything Dogma had wished for. They had been there and present for him. He had never in his life been so loved and it was like a drug. Even if they didn’t actually desire him, he still hoped to find himself back at their side. 

Pushing the memories of his heat down had worked for a couple of weeks. He got back into his routine of being isolated and if he was being honest…a bit snappier than usual. Dogma was also as surprised as his fellow troopers with how irritated he had been. He felt all over the place and there was no controlling some outbursts.

He assumed it was because of the debacle surrounding Tup and the commanders. 

He was sort of right. 

Tired and emotional were states Dogma was accustomed to but not at this level. He was flipping between feeling extremely dull and sluggish to having heightened senses like it was nothing. He was a bit worried about how sick he felt. Clones weren’t supposed to fall victim to most ailments, so his head was filled with all the terrible diseases that might kill him or spread to his vode. 

Also, he couldn’t discern the difference between the symptoms of depression and of the supposed illness. He could just be depressed, but clones weren’t meant for that either. It left him very confused over why his stomach was beginning to gain some pudge, despite not eating much more than normal. 

His sex drive had gone through the roof which didn’t seem like something a disease would cause, so more questions were running around. He had never been so horny before and Tup wouldn’t have sex with him. Desperate measures were turned to and shame stamped its red mark on Dogma’s face after every incident. 

Many nights were wasted imagining the commanders on top or inside of him as he guided his fingers between his legs. Light moans and murmurs of their names escaped his lips while he hid in the empty barracks. 

His heat spent with the alphas was a different type of pleasure from what he was used to with Tup, but it was no less thrilling. Tup was above average for a clone, yet even the toys they had accumulated couldn’t properly replicate the fullness of a knot. 

Tup and him had been each other’s first for everything, but a part of Dogma was wondering if Commander Fox and Commander Thorn would be his last. There was almost this hope for it. A part of him needed their affection and still believed the alphas had cared about him. 

This tiny shred of him was growing every day. 

It was especially in season for those feelings to develop because the commanders were a wonderful reminder of how pleasant an alpha could be. For some unknown reason, Hardcase kept bothering him and he wouldn't leave him alone. 

The older trooper was always getting in his space, letting out a scent that was too overpowering in Dogma’s opinion. It smelled like pure alpha musk after a good week of battle and it made Dogma queasy. 

Dogma just wanted the stupid alpha to go away with his stupid smirk and stupid side glances and the way he would stupidly saunter over to him sometimes. Thank the Manda that Tup had been kind enough to shoo Hardcase away a couple of those times, but it wasn’t enough.

His breaking point had been Hardcase brushing a hand against his hip for merely a second in the showers. It could’ve been accidental, but he couldn’t stifle the thought that it was on purpose and Hardcase was passing it off as an accident. Dogma wasn’t fooled by the feeble defense that followed him letting out a deep and instinctual growl. 

Blacking out hadn’t stopped him from reflecting over how protective he had been lately. He wasn’t usually this short-tempered, despite what Torrent thought of him. He could normally control impulses like this; but, as he came back to, Tup was separating him from a downed Hardcase. The hand that had dared touch him was bruised, yet his conscience was telling him that it wasn’t fair for it to remain unbroken. Hardcase gaped at him like he was a freak as Tup dragged him out of the showers. 

Dogma was spiraling. _Why would he do that?_

Tup was the one to calm him down as they sat in Dogma’s bunk. His batchmate understood how much he loathed people touching him unsolicited, but this was more of a severe reaction than he was used to. From what Tup told him, based on the way Dogma had attacked it was obvious he wasn’t all there. There was no mercy and Tup was scared for him. His brother didn’t want him to get in trouble or worse, decommissioned. 

Somehow, it was the closest Dogma had been to their cadethood relationship since they were assigned to Torrent. Tup held Dogma against his chest with Dogma’s nose against his scent gland, the embrace tight as if he was afraid that Dogma would disappear if he let go. Morning dew and a soothing floral aroma filled the air as Tup told Dogma how much he loved him, softly running his fingers through Dogma’s fluffy, not-yet-slicked-back hair. 

Both of them were sinking into the scent of the other and wishing to never wake up. 

It was all as if Tup wouldn't abandon him, but Dogma recalled the truth as he peeked at the black teardrop cascading Tup’s cheeks. Their lost batchmates hadn’t wished to leave him either, yet they had no choice in the matter.

Tup and Dogma had been seven years physically when they had stolen the tattoo gun from a trainer to give Tup the mourning tattoo.

There was also a mourning tattoo that Tup and Dogma shared that was far more recent. It had been acquired during a drunk decision a few days into deployment. Dogma quite disliked porgs, they were annoying and stupid...and cute. 

Having a tramp stamp was embarrassing, but he was beginning to begrudgingly like the tiny creatures. There was a porg for each batchmate; a way to remember. Hopefully, their unforgotten vode would be as joyful in the Manda as the little porglets were. 

Tup’s style compared to Dogma’s was more sketchy with blotchy coloring. Dogma, however, had more geometric and realistic style with washed out colors, but it was more shading than anything else. Despite these differences, they could recount which porg was which brother with ease.

For instance, a very grumpy porglet with an adorable pout and outstretched wings was the very same brother to be represented in Tup’s teardrop. Snipe was an impulsive bastard who had departed far too young. Still just a pup. 

Dogma begged for the Manda to allow his pups to last longer than that.

At the exact second the thought graced his mind, Dogma sharply inhaled at his realization. It made him focus back on the moment Hardcase had touched him and the brief response he hadn’t noticed before.

 _Protect pups from a perceived threat, in this case an unwanted alpha._

He was pregnant. 

He was _pregnant_ and he could sense exactly who the fathers were. He had two baby daddies. It was crazy that he had a baby daddy in general. 

Dogma was too frightened to think it over. Tup didn’t know why he fell further into his grasp, but it nevertheless soothed Dogma when the embrace tightened. 

This was a problem he would deal with later.

The soft flutter in his belly agreed.

* * *

Dogma didn’t tell the sires he was expecting until he was decently along. His stomach already curved out into his palms and there was this soft, delicate texture to it that Dogma had grown fond of. If anything, it looked like he had gotten lax and eaten a couple more rations than necessary. It was nothing more than him getting chubbier in the middle like he had seen on some natborns. 

It was small enough where he could fit into his armor and keep the bump hidden. But no matter how hidden it was, Dogma still felt like everyone was watching him, waiting for him to slip up and reveal his accidental pregnancy. 

Yet, Dogma found himself adoring the swell and the pups growing inside. 

Despite the excitement he felt, there were instances where he hated his situation because sleep was hard to find and the nausea was persistent. However, he didn’t have to wait long until they were born. A clone pregnancy lasted about twenty weeks on average and he was nearly there. 

His pups were soon to come into the world, but he had yet to inform Commander Fox and Commander Thorn. There was still a remaining disbelief at the fact he was carrying their children. He had no doubt in his mind that the pups were sired by them, but Dogma of all people wasn’t destined to deliver the pups of such powerful alphas. 

He had imagined that if he ended up with a pup it would’ve been Tup’s. Maybe conceived by chance, or maybe they would have finally committed to the marriage pact they made when they were twelve and have a couple more children. It would have been a pleasant life, but that was not the path Dogma was to walk anymore. 

The alphas had every right to know and he did quite like Fo-

 _No_. They were Commander Fox and Commander Thorn. He didn’t know them well enough to call them by just their names. It was rude to ignore their titles.

The problem was he didn’t have any way to contact them. The 501st didn’t have leave and he couldn’t think of how to reach them and he was frightened out of his mind over how they would react. 

What if they told him to have an abortion or that it all was a mistake? That they hated him and he was just some whore who didn’t know how to close his legs. What if his pups were actually sired by one of those alphas in the refresher? He could have passed out and forgotten being used. Perhaps he had buried it down deep until all that remained of the night was the babies in his belly. 

He knew that wasn’t true. He could recognize who the sires of his children were, despite all the second-guessing. 

Nevertheless, he couldn’t keep pushing the announcement back because of his fears. He was truly reminded of this during a small battle on an inconsequential planet that was supposed to be a quick and easy victory. The fighting was quick and easy as promised, but it was when the rush of battle completely hit him. He had sort of been numb to it before, yet now he was aware of every action happening around him.

His heart thumped inside of him and the ideas in his head blurred together for a necessary goal: survival. 

The threat of death became more real to his young, inexperienced mind. He had paused in front of blaster fire as his pups fought with his spine, a smile was hidden by his helmet as he glanced down at his pups. If it hadn’t been for Tup tackling him out of the way, he would’ve been shot and killed along with his children. He would have died with his last moments spent ignorantly enjoying the movement of the babies. 

Laying on the dirt with Tup breathing heavily against him, his ears ringing as the startled pups kicked desperately against his armor, Dogma became more alert than he had ever been. He almost lost his children because of his own carelessness and stupidity. Commander Fox and Commander Thorn didn’t deserve a di’kut like him carrying their ade. 

The outside world may not know what he held, but he did and there was a great amount of shame for his failure. 

He nearly commed the commanders after escaping the medbay where Tup had been fretting about him. The injury was nothing he needed to take his armor off for. It was only a minor blow to his head, but Dogma’s hands hovered over his stomach the entire time. They were so fragile and tiny, yet he had to remind himself how sturdy clone pups were, despite their smaller size. 

Dogma had uncovered the comm signals of the Coruscant Guard commanders when the battle had properly ended, a tiny bit before Tup had thrown him into the medbay. He wished for them to take him back to Coruscant, but then he remembered he hadn’t actually told them he was pregnant. 

He kind of needed to do that. 

Which was how he ended up separating from Torrent for a second time during leave. 

The courage it took to even step off the ship was incredible, yet he eventually managed to muster it up and join the rest of his battalion with his feet on the ground of Coruscant. Nervousness had crept into him, attempting to cripple him and make him lay down in bed for the rest of leave.

Somehow he was able to pry himself out of the guest barracks. Dogma had to actually find the commanders to tell them the news, so he crawled back the path that he believed went to Commander Fox’s office, step by step and second by second. He had been lucid enough to memorize where he was being taken in the arms of the alpha. Dogma needed those safe and secure arms wrapped around him once again. 

He couldn’t stop from shrinking in on himself the further he got into the Guard building. It hadn’t been that hard to get in, and his fellow troopers didn’t seem that bothered by his presence when he was closer to the entrance. However, the deeper he travelled the more weird looks and the pointed glances he got from those in red-painted armor. 

It could be because of the 501st blue which had been recently painted onto him to signify his battalion and that he was no longer completely shiny. A symbol of pride had been turned into a thing of disgust as he was eyed and judged. He had been told by Rex that there was a bit of a tension between the 501st and the Guard because battalions, specifically Torrent Company, had a tendency of stirring up trouble during shore leave. 

Either way, the glares were not making him feel better about what he was about to do. It got worse when Dogma arrived at the lift that would take him to the floor where Fox’s office was, for he found that there was a code or key necessary to open it. He might have started tearing up because of his dumb emotions and all of the Guard troopers that were grumbling about him being in the way. He was sort of just catching his breath as he leaned his head against the door of the lift, crying because of his missed chance.

Yet, after a couple minutes of being pressed against cold metal, there was a voice behind him. A voice that was specifically addressing him instead of just mentioning him in annoyance. 

“This is a Guard-only area. Go back to your battalion’s designated barracks immediately,” the man behind him sounded tired but professional. Dogma could envision the eyeroll of the speaker as they mumbled out, “Why is it always the 501st?” 

He wasn’t prepared to be thrown out, but he had tried his best and his best had failed in an amazing explosion his dignity would never recover from. However, the tone of the person seemed to change as Dogma turned around to face them.

“Dogma?” The voice muttered in disbelief, breathless in quality as if they were happy to have Dogma there. 

It was Thorn.

It was Thorn with his wonderful shoulder-length, dark, blonde hair that was clearly dyed unlike his captain’s. There were delicate but full braids hidden between locks of hair, and Dogma wished to cord his fingers through to find them all. There was a desire to add more braids, for Thorn would look beautiful with some beads and trinkets woven in.

Dogma was a little shocked to be brought into a hug. He couldn’t help from relaxing into the touch, his face easily reached the alpha’s neck, and scenting the air around him. There was a strong and comfortable smell, and it smelled like good bui material. 

“Fox will be so excited to see you again,” Commander Thorn let out a grin as he pulled away from Dogma. 

Dogma could feel the heat rising to his cheeks as he meekly stared down at his feet, “Seems like an overstatement, sir. You don’t need to save my pride.” 

Thorn seemed delighted to hear his voice but not the words spoken. For a second there, Dogma was fearful of Thorn being mad at him because he appeared upset, his scent permeating with a sharp bite to it. 

Dogma’s chin was tilted up so that he was making eye contact with Thorn as he talked, “It’s okay for you to call me Thorn if you want.” The hand not holding his gaze fell onto Dogma’s hip, giving a light squeeze, and Thorn continued, “We are both thrilled to have you back. You should stay longer than last time. There was so much more we could’ve done. We missed you.” 

“I’ve missed you too, Thorn. You and Fox.” Dogma blushed, hands hovering over his belly and his eyes trying to avert. He didn’t want to be this weak in front of the alpha. Thorn was so close to their children; it made Dogma flustered. 

The hand on his hip never left, even as Thorn guided him to Fox’s and his personal quarters, and it contrasted how Hardcase had touched him. He felt confident in this embrace whereas he was suffocating with the other. 

The troopers who had been whispering and complaining before didn’t dare to now. It was clear Thorn was protective of the 501st omega that was attached to his side. The attention Thorn was giving Dogma made the younger a tad giddy. The pups absolutely loved the proximity of one of their buire, making little bubbles in his stomach. 

Luckily, Thorn had all of the codes to every door and lift down which was more than Dogma might ever know. There was a small chance that Dogma had intentionally watched Thorn punch in the code to the private room Fox and he shared, but who was watching?

Regardless, stepping into the quarters again was exciting. It was drenched in the scent of the alphas and the room looked extremely homey to Dogma, despite being rather plain. However, it was more personalized than anything Dogma had seen in the barracks. The 501st was grateful for small items, but it seemed that Fox and Thorn had chairs, blankets, a cushy bed, and a stuffed fox plush sitting on a nightstand with an actual Force-forsaken lamp. It was obviously their room which was slightly strange: Dogma had never taken in an actual bedroom before.

The sight Dogma was unprepared for, even with the awe he had for the aura and decoration of the room, was Fox lounging in a chair in the corner with a datapad in his hand and ration in the other. He was timidly chewing on the ration as he worked, giving a brief glance at Thorn as he entered before refocusing upon recognizing Dogma. 

Fox practically chucked his datapad behind him onto the cushion of the chair as he stood up in a daze. He couldn’t believe their shiny was back. Fox stepped forward to pull Dogma into his arms, but he stopped once noticing how frightened Dogma seemed. 

Dogma didn’t appreciate the hesitation Fox displayed, yet he flinched away when Fox was close enough to hurt him or their pups. This was not the impression he was hoping to leave, but hormones and routine had taken over. 

Fox didn’t need to speak for him to ask what was wrong, his eyes and aroma spoke for him with its concern. 

Dogma whimpered, trying to ignore the wet streaks running down his face, “I’m such an idiot. Please don’t hate me.”

“That would never happen no matter what you said,” Fox reassured him. 

But, Thorn interrupted with a joking smirk, “Except if you said you the Guard was worse than Torrent. Then we would hate you.”

Fox glared at his mate, yet he stopped when he caught how Dogma had brightened up, softly smiling for a beautiful second. 

Dogma just had to get it out. He needed to pull off the bacta patch quickly or it would hurt more than necessary. “So you know how we spent my heat together?” Dogma was closing in on himself as he murmured it out. He didn’t even wait for a response before he buried his face into his hands. He couldn’t bear looking at them.

Dogma was such a failure he started sobbing in front of Commander Fox and Commander Thorn. They were going to loathe him for being such a stereotypical omega who sought out the most powerful alpha to get knocked up by. If they found out he was pregnant, he couldn’t speak the words so maybe they would never know. He could still leave with a hint of his dignity. 

It wasn’t meant to be because Fox put it all together. With astonishment, he asked, “We’re having pups?” 

Dogma closed his eyes, wrapping his arms around his middle as he blindly backed away from the alphas, “You can throw me out. I know you don’t-”

He had to pause because he was too shocked to utter a word after he was enveloped into a warm embrace. It was all-encompassing: an alpha behind and in front of him. Dogma thought they were going to reject him, but instead they were hugging him and pressing small kisses against his tears and neck. The excitement they were experiencing was intoxicating.

“Have you seen a medic yet?” Thorn whispered, lips brushing against his ear. 

Dogma shaking his head was the answer the alphas had expected but they by no means wanted it. Their omega had been fending for himself and their pups could’ve been hurt in the process. They knew exactly what needed to be done and Dogma had to follow along as they led him to the Coruscant Guard medbay. 

They decided to go the long way to the medbay so that they could be as affectionate as they wished with Dogma without rumors starting. Fox and Thorn would’ve been fine with a little gossip, but Dogma had dealt with enough for today. He didn’t need random people knowing about his pregnancy and relations with two of the highest-ranking commanders to be added to the trash pile of his life. 

The medic had seemed a bit irritated when the three of them walked into the medbay. He was sitting in a chair by an examination table, using the table as a mandatory pillow to rest his head against. There was a plain, red mug in his hand and he was latched onto it with an iron grip. It reminded Dogma a lot of Kix during the days where Jesse would come in and kidnap him. 

“This is my lunch break, Fox,” the medic muttered into a cup of caf, eye bags becoming clear as he glared at the aforementioned intruder. Yeah, that was pure Kix. 

“Cyto, you know how you said it was a good thing Fox and I got together because that meant you wouldn't have to deal with us getting anyone pregnant?” Thorn came up from behind Fox with a sheepish smile, Dogma hiding between them. 

“I’m surprised the Manda would even allow you two to reproduce in the first place,” Cyto rolled his eyes and got up, setting his mug on the counter across from the table. Even if he hadn’t been there that long, Dogma could recognize that this Cyto was the pack beta, one of the most essential people in the pack. If he wanted to join the Guard pack at any point, he would have to go through Cyto. 

Dogma reluctantly moved in front of the alphas to reveal himself to the medic. He was short enough that he was effectively out of sight before, but now all the eyes were on him. 

“You knocked up a 501st shiny,” Cyto bluntly stated with exasperation, sighing when Fox and Thorn somehow forgot how to make eye contact when he glared at them. 

Cyto patted the examination table he had been napping on for Dogma to settle himself on, but that didn’t stop him from lecturing his commanders as he gathered supplies. The beta was getting more and more like Kix honestly. 

“Stone and Thire are really the only commanders with any common sense around here. You need to stop thinking with your knots and start using whatever CC juice they fed your batches that makes you superior in whatever bullshit way the Kaminoans came up with. I didn’t think you could surprise me anymore, but, lo and behold, you bring me a knocked up kid who is clearly _scared out of his mind_. Think before you act next time. You better take care of him and respect whatever decision he makes, or I will personally see to it that the Chancellor learns exactly where his alcohol stash has been going for the past year.”

Cyto moved around the room with a grace and familiarity Dogma had seen in the omega medic of Torrent, but there was a haste to it as Cyto collected what was necessary to check Dogma and the pups’ health. 

The medic had tried to touch Dogma in order to help him take off his armor, but he had hissed in the medic’s face at the contact. 

_Don’t touch my pups._

Dogma thought he had ruined his chances at a good introduction, but Cyto seemed more amused than anything. 

Cyto chuckled, “Fox would take a blaster to my head if I did anything. You’ll be alright.”

Taking a deep breath to calm down, Dogma finally started uncovering his stomach with a bit of help from Cyto who was taking the armor and putting it aside. Self-conscious was the best word to describe how he felt as soon as he revealed his curved middle. 

Fox and Thorn almost seemed drawn to it, but they kept their distance so Cyto could do his job. Dogma didn’t exactly comprehend what was happening, but he did find it fascinating how efficient Cyto was with applying a cold substance to his stomach and checking the pups on the datapad he had acquired from a cabinet further back in the medbay. He walked and talked Dogma through the steps so he would understand what was happening which Dogma appreciated. 

Cyto looked down at the screen on his lap and hummed, “Congratulations. Your pups are growing steadily. From what I can tell, you are having a healthy baby girl and a healthy baby boy.”

There were two pups inside of him, a girl and a boy, which confirmed what Dogma had believed beforehand. Intuition was rarely wrong, and he was thankful it was only two and not more. Dogma was relieved, he never thought he would ever be capable of creating anything good in his life. 

Fox and Thorn were staring at the screen Cyto handed over to them with visible hearts in their eyes. Dogma was blushing a bit with how enamored they looked. He couldn’t believe it was because of him. 

Thorn hesitantly touched his belly but began moving his hand up and down when Dogma nodded in approval. He captured Dogma’s lips, yet the younger could still make out Fox tearing up with joy as he glanced from the screen to Dogma. Dogma was soaking in the attention. He could understand slightly how Tup felt in Fives’ presence. 

Maybe it was time for him to branch out a little more. It wasn’t as bad as he thought it was going to be. Even if Tup was attempting to get rid of him, it didn’t feel like Fox and Thorn would do that.

It was further proven as Thorn began whispering sweet nothings against his lips over how beautiful and perfect he was. The words were making Dogma begin to love how his belly looked when it was full of pups. 

It seemed Fox was equally adamant about proving to him how wonderful he was. Both of them had joined together to place their hands on his stomach, curving over the bump. Thorn had to tear away his lips from Dogma to make room, making him whine at the loss, but Fox made up for it by kissing his cheek. 

Dogma almost laughed at how their eyes widened at the way his skin moved up against their palms as the pups moved around, just as excited by the attention as their bu. There was no need for words because of how lost they were in each other. Though Fox did mutter something about their Uncle Cody’s kicking gene being a dominant one.

Dogma had met Commander Cody before and knew exactly what he meant. No man should be able to roundhouse kick a droid without sustaining some major damage. It did make sense that Fox and Cody were batchmates, but Cody’s genes were the worst. Those pups had been brutalizing his insides for weeks because of them. 

Dogma hadn’t noticed that Cyto had left the medbay so they could get some privacy. But Dogma couldn’t stop from enjoying watching Fox and Thorn communicate with their eyes. It was so fluid and impressive, showing how close the two mates were. 

He wished to be a part of that, but he was genuinely surprised when they asked. 

“Do you want to be our third?” Thorn asked with a timidness that was contrary to his usual confidence. Dogma was stunned and a bit caught off guard.

“Is it just because of the pups?”

Fox rushed when he saw that Dogma was beginning to shake and shrink, “No, we were considering a relationship during the night where we shared your heat. We just didn’t have the time to ask then.”

He thought it was suspicious. They could just want him for sex, but there was something in they way they stared at him like he meant something. It made him want to pursue the relationship. He liked them and they seemed to like him? 

There was also the tiny fact that he was carrying their children. 

“I’d love to be your third,” Dogma breathed out. He couldn’t believe it. Giggling as he rubbed his bump and took in every inch of his new partners, Dogma continued, “We’re going to have some good-looking kids.”

“We’re clones,” Fox teased, but Thorn shushed him.

However, it only made Dogma laugh. “I’m pretty sure you two are better looking than the others.”

“And you're easily the finest piece of ass I’ve seen,” Thorn responded with a wink. 

It made Dogma blush and Fox was quick to remark on that, “Red looks amazing on you. Much better than blue.”

The response made Dogma cheeks burn. He wasn’t used to being complimented by alphas before, especially ones that were his boyfriends. He hoped that he would feel like this for the remainder of leave. He wanted to be able to enjoy this new relationship for what it was and it could be. 

He got the message: _join the Guard, please._

It would have to be a later Dogma problem because, as he snuggled into the side of Fox as Thorn and him squeezed onto the examination table, he let go of his previous worry. This was secure and he was too tired to return back to the quarters. This space would have to do.

“Got any baby names?” Thorn yawned, wrapping his arms around Dogma and cupping the bump. 

“I don’t know,” Dogma yawned back, snuggling into Fox’s plush chest, “Something that starts with an E would be nice.”

“Emory,” Fox suggested, at further prompting he continued, “For the boy, it means home strength.”

Dogma smiled at the proposal. He quite liked the name and he could already see himself cooing at his pups as he called them by that name.

He wanted to try and name his daughter. He truly did, but his eyes were too heavy and his mind too foggy for another second of deliberation.

Despite that, there was not a single thing he could imagine being better than falling asleep in the embrace of _his_ alphas.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The plan is to hurt them every Wednesday, so come check us out then!


	3. Crotch Goblins’ First Wedding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 2 kids and a wedding

Dogma winced, groaning as he leaned into his mates. The loud chiming emitting from his comms made him very much not want to deal with whatever that was. 

The few weeks of bliss he had been having so far were nice, but he only had a week left. He prayed they weren’t going to be sent out early: giving birth out on the field was not in his itinerary. 

If that happened, he would have to actually tell people that he was pregnant, which was not his plan.

Thorn groaned and rolled over. He fumbled around and handed Dogma his commo who then squinted at the device. 

He whined as he read the summons to Torrent’s barracks. Dogma rolled over and rubbed his belly, for his pups seemed to sense his distress. 

“Where you goin’?” Fox attached himself to Dogma’s back, kissing his cheek.

“Barracks, Rex wants’omething.” Dogma grumbled, sitting up.

Fox and Thorn huffed and rolled into him. Fox was behind him, kissing his neck and shoulder. He threw a leg over his hip, knee rubbing the bottom of his abdomen. Thorn’s hand pressed to his belly, his other rubbing his cheek, kissing his forehead. 

Everything was telling him to stay here and not leave. Everything but the voice in his head that was warning him over how everyone would suspect something if he didn’t. 

He twisted out of their grips, both dropping their arms and legs immediately. They stood up and pulled him into a hug and a kiss, rubbing his belly with a small whisper to be safe. 

As if they weren’t going to follow him there all the way to the barracks and wait for him to leave. 

He stretched and wrapped the flexible cushion around his stomach, wincing as it pressed against his clearly unhappy pups. The pups decided to show their anger over being smushed against his armor and padding by kicking his gut.

As Dogma pulled on his utility belt and plackart, Thorn tapped his midsection and whispered, “Stop kicking your Bu.”

It seemed to semi-work: they calmed down just a little.

He finished, trying to psych himself up for the hour or so he’d be stuck with Torrent trying not to sob as stomach and pups were constricted by his armor.

Fox seemed to pick up on this and wiped the corner of his eyes, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

“It’s going to be gone soon. They’ll be out and safe and it won’t hurt.” He whispered and Dogma believed him.

_It just hurts so much right now._

Thorn’s hand was on his hip and he kissed him slowly and surely.

He melted, taking a minute to consider just ditching his armor and staying here. Consequences and questions be damned.

But he had to. 

Even if he _really_ didn’t want to. 

He began to collect himself, pulling on his vambraces and making his way out. Thorn and Fox seemed to take a second to give the brief illusion that they weren’t following him.

Dogma couldn’t help but smile at the feeling of Fox and Thorn at his back: the slight noise of their footsteps against durasteel rails and concrete rooftops. The warmth of feeling loved combated the cold of Coruscant.

As he opened the door, he sighed because he knew this was where the protection stopped for the time being. Maybe one day he would feel comfortable enough to have his alphas with his pack, but today was not that day and his reputation would never recover if it were to occur. 

Dogma slowly walked in, relieved that no one made a comment as he slotted himself next to Tup as Rex chewed out the “Terror Trio” -Fox’s words, not his- and a group of the shinies that they kidnapped to complete whatever endeavor to terrorize the Guard. 

Tup looked at him with something in his eyes and Dogma shrugged it off. Giving him a tired smile and nudged Tup’s shoulder, who cocked his head to lay on top of Dogma’s. 

Dogma yawned, his eyes drooping as he leaned against the hanger. Rex was _still_ talking and Tup clearly wanted to get out of this as fast as physically possible like his brother. 

Probably to have sex with Fives.

Dogma wasn’t jealous. 

He was more focused on trying to resist touching his stomach. He can’t be too obvious. He was trying to be subtle. 

_Trying_ is the key word. It’s been four months, so he’s due in a few weeks. He was not having a singleton that’s for sure. He had gotten some chub now, and Dogma had seen singleton pregnancies. 

And this isn’t a singleton pregnancy. 

He’s lucky, lucky that the slight weight gain has gone relatively unnoticed save a small comment by Kix. 

Thank goodness for that, and it was a positive comment too. Kix had been telling him he needed to gain some weight. Apparently, he was “Too karking thin.” 

Dogma thanked the force he had his bucket on, even if Kix probably sensed his eye roll. Dogma could say he had plausible deniability. 

His head slightly smacked the durasteel wall as boredom was three seconds away from offing him. He groaned slightly but dealt with it silently. He would be gone soon with the buire of his children. Dogma’s face heated dramatically at the thought of that.

Buire to his children.

His children.

Those were a thing that were going to be coming soon.

_Kark._

He tried to pay a little more attention to the Captain speaking: something about how they need to stop getting into scuffles with the Guard Troopers. 

Maybe the forty-sixth time since he had arrived would do the charm. It probably wouldn’t. 

Dogma tuned briefly in to hear Hardcase make a dumb joke about Commander Fox and he rolled his eyes. A small part of him was ready to fight Hardcase on his alpha’s behalf.

_His alpha._

Dogma was gone for them and there was a small feeling of giddiness that arose at that thought.

_If only these bastards weren’t so easily provoked, then he could be cuddling with his alphas in peace._

His babies seemed to agree based on the way feet were going at the cushion and extra plating around his armor. 

_Finally_ , after what felt like years, they were released. Oh thank the gods that Dogma was free. He barely resisted the urge to sprint out to get to his alphas.

Instead, in a true act of patience, Dogma slowly got up and padded away. He made his way to the fresher with the group before splitting off and backing up. He looked around to see if everything was clear then took the hallway to the left, jogging off and taking the south exit that led to the roof.

He hated this part. The frigid air pierced through his armor and caused him to shiver. Every sound nearly made him jump out of skin. 

He heard a snap, and the sounds of heavy boots against the concrete roofing, and the slight woosh that was the result of jumping from rooftop to rooftop.

Dogma sighed with relief. His eyes felt droopy while his pups were going at his bladder again. Little brats.

But they were his little brats.

He heard footsteps getting closer and tensed wearily. Dogma hissed loudly as the trooper got closer. He was able to catch a whiff of scent as arms wrapped around his body.

He purred loudly, leaning back and giggling. Fox rumbled and wrapped his hands around his belly.

“Hello,” Fox kissed his neck. 

His body completely melted into Fox’s. Dogma purred loudly as Thorn appeared and kissed his cheek.

“Let’s go home,” Thorn muttered. 

Dogma was more than happy to go along with this plan as Thorn’s arms wrapped around him. He couldn’t help but purr and sigh every time Thorn captured him in an embrace, completely melting into his alpha’s arms. 

* * *

Waking up with one alpha wasn’t unusual, but it wasn’t usual either. Fox and Thorn were busy men, and Dogma understood and respected that. 

What he didn’t respect was Thorn’s obvious, bucket-hair musk invading the nice ozone and rainy scent that he normally had.

Living alongside Tup for so long really had gotten to him. Seeing Thorn’s hair and knowing exactly what was wrong with it was a problem. A problem Dogma didn’t know he had.

He hoped it was a pregnancy thing, Dogma knew he had enough hang-ups. It was just as annoying to him as it annoys others, he knows. 

“What’s wrong?” Thorn turned to him; Dogma rolled his eyes, looking at Thorn’s hair with disgust.

“When’s the last time you washed it?” Dogma asked.

Thorn tried to stutter out an answer, his mouth opening and closing and Dogma gave him a look.

“We can’t have that.” Dogma grumbled, rolling out of bed and snatching Thorn’s hand. Leading him to the refresher, they took a small detour to their den. Dogma grabbed the hair care products he had stashed. He had initially bought them for Tup at the beginning of his leave and could beg Fox for some more later. 

Thorn was still standing at the door and looking confused. Dogma smiled as he began to lead Thorn toward the shower. He let go of his hand and started pulling off his blacks. Thorn came across as interested, staring at the slight bump on his stomach.

“No, we’re not having sex. Get your clothes off.”

Thorn gaped at him and Dogma sighed, uncapping some of the bottles. He nudged Thorn to sit in front of him, turning on the spray. Dogma rolled his eyes and enjoyed the water as Thorn pulled off his clothes. 

Dogma gestured for Thorn to sit which he did without complaint. Dogma sat behind him, grabbing the shampoo bottle and scrubbing Thorn’s long hair. He barely held in a giggle as the alpha purred underneath his hands. 

Dogma washed his hair down, trying to get the shampoo out so he could go to stage two. 

Conditioning.

Dogma scratched Thorn’s scalp, humming. His other hand was rubbing Thorn’s arm, smiling at the goosebumps developing under his light touch. He quickly washed and brushed out the remaining conditioner.

Thorn leaned into Dogma’s hands as they played with his hair. He was trying to get the knots out with his fingers before he combed it out. 

He shook himself out and began to towel off, taking extra tenderness around his distended stomach. His breath hitched as a warm body meshed against his; Thorn’s large hands wrapping around his belly. 

Dogma purred loudly and leaned into Thorn. Thorn gave his own rumble, mouthing at Dogma’s bonding gland. Dogma cocked his head, shoving the mark in Thorn’s mouth, Thorn grumbled as his teeth barely dug into skin and Dogma groaned loudly. 

Thorn hesitantly pulled off and Dogma whined with the loss.

 _Tease_.

“After,” Thorn grumbled, leaning so his hair was draped over Dogma’s shoulder. Dogma shivered at the cold and moved back a little.

He turned and grabbed the comb. Moving so he could brush through the less tangled mess that was Thorn’s hair. 

Pulling back, he started to plait his dark gold hair. Brushing the pads of his fingers on the small marks on Thorn’s shoulder, he hummed quietly to himself.

“While we’re here,” Thorn murmured, turning to kiss Dogma, “Wanna get started on Fox’s tattoo?”

Dogma gave him a beaming smile, pulling on a fresh pair of blacks. Thorn seemed to know they were Fox’s but he wasn’t going to say anything. Thorn pulled on his pants and top, allowing Dogma to do the same. 

He smiled and Thorn took his hand, leading him out.

Fox would be out on patrol for the next hour, so there was an opportune amount of time for them to plan the design and allow Dogma to do some concepts. 

Dogma startled when he was suddenly parallel to the ground, clutching Thorn’s neck with a surprised shout.

“ _Thorn_.”

“It’s bad luck for a pregnant omega to be walking so close to labor,” Thorn said, like the lying liar he was. Dogma wasn’t about to argue, it was quite comfortable and Thorn was very warm. 

The only consequence was his pups being confused by the change of position because they went to town on his stomach. Dogma moved one hand to massage his belly, hoping that it would give his pups comfort at the very least and a target other than his bladder at the most.

He buried his head in Thorn’s neck, smiling at the prickle on his face. He was able to smell his nest which caused a smile to form, leaning back into his alpha.

Thorn’s hand moved from underneath him to type in the door code. His pups’ kicking seemed to calm for a minute at least. 

He was placed in the nest. Dogma sat up and pulled off his top and pants. Thorn’s footsteps faded and returned as he slid behind him. Skin-to-skin contact felt great.

There was a sketchbook placed in front of him, some nice pencils that Dogma had stolen from a senator while dressed in Fox’s armor when they were still getting to know each other. Even knowing the pair for a few weeks, Dogma could tell the poor commander needed sleep and Dogma borrowing his armor and placating senators seemed more fun than it actually was. 

“What are you thinking?” Thorn hummed. 

Dogma shrugged and clicked the pen a few times, leaning back into Thorn, “What are _you_ thinking?”

“Maybe a fox design?” Thorn said, then looked down at Dogma with a bemused smirk, “Do a few foxes with some beautiful flower crowns.” 

“Hilarious,” Dogma deadpanned, “And I’m sure Fox wouldn’t appreciate that.”

“Better than porgs,” Thorn argued, “But, it would be hilarious to show him that as our decision.”

Dogma rolled his eyes but started sketching all the same, an idea forming. He heard Thorn try to stifle giggles as the design made its way on the page.

The Chancellor in a flower crown would definitely cause an attack of some form. Whether it be Fox having a heart attack or attempting to kill them, the thought of _that_ on Fox’s skin was hilarious.

But they weren’t _that_ awful. At least not to Fox.

Dogma flipped the page, pen hovering over the paper as he thought. He scanned around for any ideas that might decide to present themselves to him at this moment. 

Seems Thorn’s idea box was working better than his, “What about a map?”

“A map?”

“A map,” Thorn repeated, patting Dogma’s stomach, “A map of the upper levels of Coruscant.”

Dogma liked it, “Can you give me a reference?”

Thorn nodded and hesitantly removed himself from Dogma. Dogma regretted asking that because it meant that Thorn was _away_. 

Thorn returned relatively quickly, but it was too long in Dogma’s opinion. Dogma glanced at the holo and back to his flimsi. Sketching out lines and roads and shapes, he tried to keep as accurate as possible. 

Without looking up he asked, “Where do you want to put it?”

“Ass?” Thorn said jokingly.

“No,” Dogma responded instantly, turning slightly to nip Thorn’s neck.

“Fine.” Thorn leaned down and kissed his forehead. 

“Could you imagine?” Dogma giggled.

“On his face though,” Thorn snickered. 

Both of them laughed at the thought of a map of the surface of Coruscant on Fox’s face. 

Or his ass.

But, Dogma wasn’t going to do that, and neither was Thorn.

“What about his left arm?” Thorn suggested, “Where your vambrace is going to go?”

“Why where my vambrace is going to go? It make more sense for it to be on your arm, yeah?” Dogma asked.

“I’ll be here waiting for Fox. Maybe you can lead him home.” Thorn with a smile and Dogma blushed hideously. 

“Sap,” Dogma pushed him.

“Your sap.” Thorn scooted around so he was sitting in front of Dogma, his hands moving to clasp his own and kissing him.

“Fox’s too I hope,” Dogma said between kisses.

“Of course.” Thorn murmured, hands wrapped around his waist and leaning so he was propped up on the wall. He buried his hand in Dogma’s hair, pulling him into a passionate kiss while his other one moved to stroke Dogma’s slightly swollen belly.

He groaned into Thorn’s mouth, completely dissolving into his arms and letting Thorn take the lead. Thorn felt unbelievable at the moment and his body craved the alpha at the moment.

He broke the kiss and leaned into a keldabe as one of his pups decided to take another kick at Thorn’s hand.

Thorn chuckled and squeezed the slight chunk, “Leave your Bu alone. He’s just trying to have some fun.” 

Dogma shook his head and chuckled, shuffling down so he could snuggle. Snuggles seemed like a good idea. He could really use them. They were much desired, by him and his pups, based on the lack of kicking. Dogma highly doubted they actually listened to Thorn.

He already knew that his pups would be little shits like Tup and him. 

There were many reasons why he was going to regret having to go back to the front, watching Fox and Thorn try to deal with these hellions was one of them.

Thorn’s hands were wrapped around his belly, and he smiled at the kicking against his hands.

“Ignatia,” he whispered.

Dogma looked up at him and cocked his head, “What?”

“Ignatia. We’ve named Emory, but the girl hasn’t been named yet?”

Dogma looked down as Thorn’s hands started pressing against his belly, “What prompted this?”

“She’s the little rascal who’s kicking. _I know it_ ,” Thorn said with confidence, “And she’s going to be a little firecracker.” 

“Ignatia,” Dogma mused, “I like it.”

Thorn smiled and pulled him into a kiss, hand still firmly attached to his belly.

* * *

He sat next to Fox, peeking over his shoulder as the other man tried to concentrate on his flimsi work.

A short debate on if he should disrupt the alpha ultimately ended with the decision to continue. They needed to design Thorn’s tattoo after all.

And Fox needed a break, Dogma could tell.

“Come on, it’ll still be here when we’re done.”

Fox grumbled and Dogma began to subtly project his scent, leaning into Fox’s space. 

He’s pregnant and he wants company from the other father. Sue him.

Or don’t, he doesn’t really have the funds to manage a lawsuit. 

Fox seemed to not want to take that direction, thank the gods, taking the road of lightly scenting him back and kissing him. The alpha placed a large, warm hand over the soft skin on his bump.

Time to lay down the last card: the final push. 

“Please, Commander?”

Fox sighed, looked at his flimsi, and shot up. Lifting Dogma up by his thighs, Fox maneuvered him so that he was settled between the wall and Fox’s hips. His alpha’s eyes were blown, staring to his own eyes passionately. Fox bared sharp canines and Dogma wanted them in his neck.

He lightly kicked the small of Fox’s back with his heel. He snapped out of it, shaking his head and burying it in Dogma’s neck. Dogma chuckled and played with his hair.

“Since you’re out of your chair…” Dogma started.

“Fine.”

Dogma gave a happy chirp, wiggling out of Fox’s grip and grabbing his conveniently-placed sketchbook.

How did that get here?

A mystery.

He moved all of Fox’s stuff to the side and sat on his desk, ignoring the commander’s annoyed look.

“So what are we thinking?”

“Something with a clown because that’s what Thorn is.”

Dogma gave him an eyebrow although, to be fair, they did put Palpatine in a flower crown as a legitimate design option.

“What about a porg?”

“No.” 

“C’mon, Thorn loves them,” Fox began, giving Dogma a smirk that he didn’t like, “He really liked yours  _ that night- _ ”

“Please, Fox I’m begging you,” Dogma begged, “I’ll do anything. Drop it please.”

“ _ Anything? _ ”

“Tattoo a porg with a clown wig on Thorn’s ass on your own time,” Dogma mumbled as Fox’s hand started to move across the paper.

“Is that permission?”

“It’s me trying to change the subject.” 

“Not doing too good of a job,” Fox muttered.

“I’m aware.” 

Fox smirked and turned the paper to him, a crudely sketched porg with a clown wig and shoes flopping over...and it wasn’t actually that bad. It was better than their Palpatine tattoo by far, just wasn’t riduurok material.

He took the sketchbook back before Fox could try anything, tearing a sheet of paper for Fox to do whatever with as he began to let his mind wander. Dogma let his hand and pen brush across the paper and do whatever.

He glanced up at Fox’s decal which showcased a group of roses: two red ones and a blue one. There were two small purple budding ones and Dogma smiled a little as he continued with his own. It seemed Fox had busted out his stash of paints for this.

Large clouds scattered across the page, shading to show depth and the glare from the flashes of lightning that appeared. 

Dogma smiled, looking at his page and Fox’s. He flipped it and started anew. 

The storm would stay, Thorn was nothing if not a disaster and he did it so naturally, but the roses were something Dogma found himself incorporating without too much difficulty. Fox would obviously have to do the coloring. Dogma wasn’t big on colors in his art save a few dashes here and there. Fox, on the other hand, was bold and great at incorporating a reasonable amount of colors.

If they desaturated the roses severely and Dogma shaded less with black but instead with soft tones, it might work.

He shifted so he was adjacent to Fox, tilting to the side and praying he didn’t tip. Dogma turned the drawing to him and the commander looked impressed. 

“We add a little gray to the color, lessen it as we get up, and maybe not use black but gold as an outline,” Dogma suggested and Fox mulled over it.

“We could go bright red and blue on the roses, add a gold outline in place of light, and keep the black and shading?”

Dogma nodded, “A shade lighter on the purple? And add a gold outline to the clouds and center of the lightning?”

“I like it,” Fox agreed, “can I-”

“No, you can’t hide your clown porg in the design,” Dogma said.

Fox squinted at him and stuck his tongue out.

“You’re a child,” Dogma rolled his eyes. 

“You love me.”

“I would also love to be carried back to my nest and continue what we started earlier.”

Fox gazed at him as Dogma held out his hands. It was a look Dogma didn’t bother to interpret because when he offered sex Fox and Thorn would take him up on it every time. 

Did he wish that he had known this when he was sent out and horny? 

By Tatooine's suns,  _ yes _ .

His regrets were many and he was going to make up for that now. 

“You seem to be keyed up so much already. Might as well take you here,” Fox teased.

Fox taking him on the desk didn’t seem like a bad idea, but he  _ wanted _ his nest. He was carrying this man’s kids. Therefore, he deserved to get the nest. Fox got the message based on the arms guiding Dogma’s legs around his waist and hefting him up.

Dogma leaned against him and smiled against Fox’s shoulders.

* * *

Dogma groaned and rolled over, a small tinge of pain coming from his abdomen. He snuggled into his alphas, who both seemed to be spending their time scenting and trying to make him feel a little better. 

It was kind of working but not really.

Dogma knew he was starting labor, but they were waiting for his water to break. There was a towel underneath him that Fox had stolen from a senator. It was their hope to not completely soak through the nest. It was in nice condition, and Dogma wanted to keep it that way for as long as possible.

Rebuilding a nest so soon after birth would simply not do, and Dogma would be damned if Fox or Thorn ruined his nest.

So he snuggled, enjoying these fleeting moments before his pups would come into the world. He appreciated the touch and scent, being in the moment for a little while.

Soon, it wouldn’t be like that. Soon, he was going to be in a biobed having their pups, and there wasn’t a part of Dogma that didn't feel anxiety about that.

He was going to be a Bu soon.

_ Osik, he was going to be a Bu soon. _

He was going to have two pups with his mates. His pups seemed to sense his nerves and one took a small kick. He whined as his whole body cramped up.

Thorn’s nose dug into his bonding gland, scenting him heavily. Dogma tried to focus on that and not the agonizing pressure in his abdomen. 

It wasn’t really working.

Fox’s hand was in his hair and the other one was petting his hair. Thorn’s scruff was scratching his neck and he closed his eyes and curled into him. 

A few more minutes of this before a cold flash of heat rattled him into the core. A long second passed before something cold and wet soaked his thighs as his eyes widened.

“Fox,” Dogma hissed quietly.

His alpha took a sniff and turned to him, Thorn’s eyes widened and he got out of the nest, comming Cyto. Fox began to hum, nipping his neck. 

In no time, Cyto burst into the room, Dogma whining and glaring at him. Something was telling him to hiss: that someone was in his den when he was vulnerable. 

His alphas seemed to agree. Fox was growling and moved in front of him and Thorn was bristling. Both of their scents were growing protective and musky. 

Cyto gave a small croon, ducking down and nudging them to the side. He was doing his best to appear non-threatening as he approached Dogma.

“It’s time to get those pups out of you, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Dogma whimpered and twisted.

“Good,” Cyto smiled, “Let’s get you to the medbay.”

Dogma shivered as Cyto helped him to a stretcher. Another trooper gave him a small nod as Cyto laid him down.

The time between his den to the medbay was blurry. All Dogma really remembered was passing a few brothers who gave him smiles and wished him good luck.

Then he was being deposited into a biobed, the cold polymer on his heated skin was both uncomfortable and nice.

He was hit with another wave of pain, trying desperately to hold on as it subsided. 

Around him the room was pure chaos. 

Medics were fiddling around, Cyto was a steady presence at Dogma’s side as sweat began to drip from his temple and he bit his lips. His whole body was shaking and flushed as the medic instructed him to push.

Calm words were Dogma’s only reprieve. Well, that with Thorn and Fox on his other side: soft whispers with an undertone of panic washed over him as another wave of agony passed through.

The hands in his hair and at the back of his neck left a sharp chill as Cyto lightly pushed his alphas back. Dogma whined at the loss of touch.

Cyto’s hand over his stomach helped a little bit. It was warm and nice, but, at the same time, it wasn’t the hands he wanted. 

His insides were burning. He was going to kill those alphas as soon as he got these pups out.

_ Karking banthashit. _

Dogma cried out in agony as he twitched in Cyto’s hold. Cyto was telling him something, but Dogma frankly didn’t care to hear it. There was a piercing noise in his ears as his abdomen burned. Cyto’s voice got more blurred as Dogma’s body seized.

Dogma cried and peered towards his alphas: two blurry figures in red as there was fluttering behind them. He shut his eyes and whimpered. There was more movement as Cyto came to a stop between his legs. 

“They’re crowning,” Cyto whispered.

Dogma panted and tried to push harder as his muscles clamped down on something large. 

_ Kriff! _

Dogma whined, pushing one last time, before he heard a distressed cry. 

He sighed as the pain began to pass, feeling his first respite. There was movement around him and soon a small, red bundle of anger was placed in his arms. His pup wailed loudly and Dogma moved him to his chest.

Sobs subsided as his son began to nurse, Dogma wincing at the odd pull around tender skin. Another wave of pain caused him to tighten his grip on his tiny body, pulling him closer. Hands closed around his as his son was taken from his grip.

He wept loudly, whirling to grab his son, but he cringed and curled back in on himself as he trembled. His whole body shook and he knew something was wrong. 

Dogma felt completely wrong. 

“We have a breech,” Cyto said and Dogma’s eyes widened as the medic walked next to him, touching his shoulder, “This is going to hurt ner vod.”

Dogma cried out again as Cyto moved to his side. Dogma winced as his hands pushed down on his abdomen, attempting to shift the pup around so Dogma could push her out. 

Oh, she’s a firecracker all right. 

He heard his son crying behind him and the comforting rumbles of his alphas. There was a hand on his and he looked up to see Thorn, who kneeled down next to him.

“You’re doing great,” Thorn reassured. 

Dogma leaned into the contact as he writhed as Cyto’s hand moved. Lips brushed across his knuckles as Thorn kissed them. It was a welcome distraction but not a very good one.

The burning continued and he felt so much worse. His body twitched, and he moaned as Cyto pulled his hands off. He felt dizzy and there was this distinct heaviness like what he had felt when his son was coming out.

With some final reassurances, Dogma sobbed and sweat dripped from his temple. The pain faded to a dull pulse as Cyto stepped back. 

There were just a few minutes for him to recover, chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath through the pain.

Dogma sighed with relief as Cyto handed his daughter to him. 

_ His daughter! _

He scented her and kissed her little forehead as her expression scrunched and she started to whine, hunger in her coppery scent.

Dogma held her in a soft keldabe before moving her down so she could nurse next to his other pup. 

He chuckled dopily as their daughter nudged at her brother, causing him to let go and mewl. Dogma’s twitching hand nudged her back to her side which she seemed to take with a small reluctance.

She was going to be a stubborn one, he knew it, and he couldn’t wait to watch her grow.

His little Ignatia and Emory. His babies.

Thorn and Fox’s too he supposed. 

He giggled at that, smiling as his pups continued to suckle loudly. They occasionally stopped to quietly babble, and Dogma chuckled. 

The room seemed to clear as Fox and Thorn got closer, moving to snuggle into the biobed. Dogma looked in between them, smiling widely as he turned to the two of them. 

His alphas were staring at their pups, wide-eyed and slightly nervous. He closed his eyes and leaned back, the pain faded as painkillers took effect, letting himself take a rest.

* * *

Fox’s heart swelled, looking at Thorn and Dogma. Thire was off to the side of the ceremony, two pups on his hips that were slightly calmed by his scent. Stone was standing a step above him, looking happy but Fox knew he probably wishes he could’ve been anywhere else. 

The small group had found their way into a hidden nook of the Guard building: a courtyard that Fox swore contained all the green Coruscant had to offer. It was a beautiful place to hold their riduurok and it was amazing to see how enticed their pups were with the colors nature had to offer.

“Mhi solus tome, mhi solus dar'tome, mhi me'dinui an, mhi ba'juri verde,” Fox said, Thorn and Dogma repeated his words.

Fox smiled as Thorn pulled their new riduur into a passionate kiss. He waited for his turn, giving Dogma a chaste peck and moving up to do the same to Thorn.

They all stared at each other, Fox looking between his riduure. Dogma was nearly vibrating in his skin, giving them both a toothy smile. Thorn’s grin was triumphant, gazing proudly at the two of them. 

Fox took off his vambraces, hearing the soft clicks as Dogma and Thorn did the same. Fox smiled and handed his vambrace off to Fox and Thorn. He smiled as Dogma handed his to Fox, and then taking Thorn’s.

They all put them back on; the Fox’s red and Thorn’s white looking comical with the rest of Dogma’s blue armor. 

Stone’s closing words went unnoticed, at least to Fox, who was too busy staring at his mate and riduur.

Ignatia and Emory looked tired, starting to get fussy. Emory squalled in Thire’s arms, causing Ignatia to start whimpering. Thire had been trying to release more of his pregnancy pheromones to soothe them, but it could only work so long. 

Thorn smiled and clasped his and Dogma’s vambraces, both following his lead. Fox pulled them close to tap their foreheads together. 

Fox and Thorn walked Dogma down to their wiggling pups. Dogma stole them from Thire who seemed both saddened by and grateful for the gesture. His clear longing reminded Dogma of when he had been pregnant.

Both pups quieted in his arms, digging their faces into his neck to take a scent. Dogma kissed their pups’ chubby cheeks. 

Fox and Thorn laughed as their pups started to reach for their buire. They took their respective baby: Fox with Emory and Thorn with Ignatia. Dogma leaned against Thorn, pressing a kiss to Ignatia’s forehead. 

“I’ll take them,” Thire said, offering his arms out to hold the pups, “Have fun, and don’t break the bed.”

The three chuckled and Dogma pecked Ignatia’s cheek, “Be good for ba’vodu Thire. Don’t stress out your cousin too much before they’re born.”

Both pups squeaked and Dogma smiled, poking their little tummies and taking a step back. Thorn did the same, rubbing their hair. Fox gave them a small peck on their foreheads and the three took their leave. 

They all sat in their den, taking some time before they would begin the final stages of their mating. Their tattoos and then their mating.

“Dogma first.” Thorn said, grinning with excitement. Fox chuckled, gesturing to the seat in front of the soft chair with the tattoo guns and various colored inks.

The said omega smiled nervously and sat down in the seat, crossing his legs underneath him and leaning forward. Fox took his place in front of him, flipping open his sketchbook and turning to Dogma’s marked page. Thorn and him scanned through their designs and spoke in hushed tones. 

_ Great… _

Thorn and Fox finally nodded to each other, giving Dogma twin smiles. Fox turned the book and allowed Dogma to see the design. 

It was a triangular design made up of several complicated shapes and decals. It seemed like it was going on his face, and he really liked it. It wasn’t something he would’ve ever thought of or done himself. His style was more realistic and geometric, and the tattoo echoed it. There was a lot of him, he could see a lot of Fox and even Thorn, from the bold colors to the similar shade of red that was on the Guard’s Phase I armor. It was an obvious claim, but not that on the nose. 

It was beautiful.

“I love it.”

Both of them gave him bright grins and Thorn gave him a grin, “Thanks, I suggested it while high.”

“Thorn,” Fox spat, whirling on him.

“ _ Fox _ .”

Dogma rolled his eyes and clicked his tongue, both glanced at him and sighed. 

“Let’s get on with it,” Fox asserted as he sat in front of Dogma and got started. 

Dogma winced at the pricks against his skin and tried to stop himself from flinching. There were arms around him, and a firm chest pressed against his back. Thorn’s warm breath was on the back of his neck, scenting him and kissing.

Soft touches and compliments were a good distraction. Thorn could be brilliant on occasion, and Dogma truly loved those moments.

There was a slight sting on his face. He prayed that they were following the design and not putting a porg or something on his face.

Eventually, the burning stopped and Fox scooted back. He turned to Thorn, the two of them were whispering and Fox nodded with approval.

_ Oh thank the gods. _

_ It wasn’t a total travesty.  _

Fox handed him a mirror and Dogma felt tears pricking at his eyes when he saw it. Dogma wondered if tears would ruin the design, he hoped not, he quite liked the design and didn’t want to mess it up.

His skin felt raw and inflamed, but Dogma adored it. 

Fox stepped forward and kissed him, wrapping his hand around his wrist and pulling him so he was standing. 

“Three sides, three of us,” Thorn murmured, moving to his other side, “Even while separated, we are still together.”

Dogma’s fight against crying was ultimately beginning to fail, tears gathering at the corner of his eyes. Thorn gave him a small kiss on the back of his neck.

“It’s beautiful,” he whispered.

Fox and Thorn curled close to him and kissed what skin they could reach before Thorn spoke up, “My turn?”

Both Fox and Dogma sighed with exasperation, giving each other a look before getting to work. 

Dogma flipped through his sketchbook, turning past Fox’s tattoos and peaking up as to make sure Fox didn't look.

He opened up their concepts for Thorn. Thorn laughed at Fox’s porg clown and rolled his eyes, Fox winking and telling him that he can get it later. Dogma traded a grin with Fox as they showed Thorn their favored design. 

Thorn looked at the two of them and gave them an excited yawn. Dogma grabbed another tattoo gun and sat on Thorn’s other side and got started. Grey ink travelled across Thorn’s shoulder blades, then darker and darker. Dogma added some deep gray-blue and brighter touches around the lightning.

He pulled back, grabbing the black ink to begin adding dark swirls and lines within the clouds. Then he grabbed the gold, setting about with the last accents before his portion was done. He examined the tattoo for a few moments to correct any last-minute issues. Smiling and stepping back, he allowed Fox to get to work.

Vines and roses wrapped around the clouds, switching from reds to blues to light purples. Fox pulled back and Dogma high fived him.

They smiled proudly and nodded at their work.

It was Fox’s turn, Thorn turned and hopped off the chair. They exchanged a small laugh and Dogma opened the sketch to the Palpatine sketch.

Fox’s aghast expression was everything. Dogma couldn’t hide his smile and snorted. 

“What is this  _ bullshit _ ?” 

“Palpatine in a flower crown?” Thorn asked with a smirk.

“I can see that,” Fox hissed, “And I want to know-”

Dogma turned the page to their actual tattoo choice and Fox gaped.

“Like it?” Thorn teased.

Fox teared up slightly and traced the tattoo. He gave them both a watery smile and kissed them both on the cheek.

They were lost in each other for a few minutes, and Fox couldn’t help but stare in awe at his husbands. Dogma’s new tattoo was still irritated and would be for a few weeks. So long as Dogma kept it clean and cared for, but didn’t use bacta, the red and swelling would be gone soon. 

Storm clouds looming on Thorn’s shoulders created another pretty picture. He was smiling at Fox and Dogma with his stupidly-amazing, lopsided grin. Dark blond hair that needed a new dye job was draped over his forehead and along his shoulder. 

Dogma leaned into him so Fox’s nose was pressed against his bonding gland. Fox couldn’t help but laugh at the obvious request. Dogma had been doing this over the past few weeks, brushing against them as a way to say  _ bond me already _ . The pregnancy had made him horny, at least Fox thought it was the pregnancy, and it seemed part of the horniness was a desire to be bonded. Fox didn’t blame him: it was a final confirmation that they were together and that they were all in this as a family. 

Thorn seemed to take the hint and grabbed Dogma’s wrist, pulling him close. He sniffed his neck and kissed it, causing Dogma to whimper. 

Fox fitted himself against Dogma’s back, nipping the other side of his neck. 

Thorn and him made eye contact over Dogma’s shoulder and Fox moved back, taking Dogma with him. He dropped him in their nest, Dogma beginning to squirm and get comfortable underneath him. 

Thorn sat up and moved to their nest. Fox nosed along Dogma’s neck, smiling at his soft moans. Dogma’s hands traveled along Fox’s ribs and wrapped around his neck. Thorn was panting behind them, waiting for his turn. 

Fox finally found his place, where Dogma’s light scent of clean blacks and lemons was at its strongest. Taking a few test nips and some light licks, he sank his teeth into Dogma’s neck. He didn’t not stop until he felt the faint taste of copper on his tongue. He collapsed on top of his mate, new emotions and senses invading his own.

It brought him back to his bonding night with Thorn, both wrestling each other into the floor with nothing but their ruts telling them what to do. 

Eventually Thorn had him pinned, teeth pricking his neck and Fox had to retaliate. Both came out of that covered in blood and closer than ever. 

It was time to complete that with Dogma. He was theirs and they were his. 

Fox moved back slightly, lifting off of his mate with shaky arms and taking the time to lick the new wound as Dogma lay pliant underneath him.

He flipped them over, leaning against one of the walls that their nest was cornered between. Dogma’s breath was warm against his neck. He slowly nudged his mate to the opposing side of Thorn’s bite, smiling as Dogma hesitantly took a sniff before sinking his own teeth into Fox’s neck. Fox felt a slight prick from Dogma’s much smaller canines as his mate gasped, leaning back to lick the mark.

Thorn approached from behind, sniffing Dogma’s neck and nuzzling it. Fox nudged Dogma, helping him turn around so he was facing Thorn. Dogma’s nose was buried in the alpha’s neck, giving Dogma easy access. Thorn groaned and leaned into Dogma as he nipped Thorn’s neck, staking his claim.

Fox smirked as Thorn pulled back, sniffing at Dogma’s neck and licking Fox’s bite before moving to the other side. Dogma whined as Thorn made his claim, breaking skin and there was a rush of hormones. 

Scents around in the room were decadent and amazing and Fox moaned. He leaned into Dogma and closed his eyes. Tomorrow was going to be a long day, but for now the three would enjoy it. 


	4. Revenge Of The Pupmas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> FoxmaThorn should've taken a health class

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The update is coming... a day late, but both of us are taking Advanced Placement courses now as well as extracurricular responsibilities. We are still aiming for every Wednesday, but sometimes it won't be that way and we appreciate your patience. The entire story is fully drafted, and while we still edit certain things, I'm 95% sure that this story will go along the track we set.

When Dogma returned about an hour before they were scheduled to leave, kiss-bitten lips still red and still slightly sore from...other activities. He began to mentally hype himself up for the last hour the 501st had before leave was over and they were deployed back into the galaxy for Ka’ra knows how long.

When he took off his bucket, he didn’t mind the stares he received, in fact, there was a feeling of pride when he caught troopers mindlessly gaping at his new facial tattoo.

His mates had done such an amazing job in designing it, so they deserved to have their work recognized. 

It also made him laugh a bit in his head whenever a shocked look was sent his way. He was  _ Dogma _ . He wasn’t supposed to get an intricate tattoo on his face. It shoved him into the ranks of Hardcase and Jesse. 

There wasn’t a more clear indication of how different clones could be than Dogma and those two, so the shiny doing anything they did was completely unexpected. 

Of course, these were the people who would never find out about Dogma’s porg tattoo which was undeniably as scandalous as the claiming mark blatantly stamped onto his face. No one knew it was a claim either though, and Dogma had been thorough in making sure his new vambraces went seamlessly into his old armor. 

There were also a few who pushed past the expectations and complimented Dogma on his tattoo. Kix checked him over to make sure the tattoo gun that had been used and the person who administered the ink could be trusted. He didn’t want any of his men getting a disease from an unsterilized needle, but Kix did find the design to be rather fitting on Dogma. It went with his geometric style and fell on the sharp qualities of his face quite nicely. 

Dogma wasn’t prepared for anyone mentioning the tattoo in a positive light outside of his riduure and Tup, so he was flustered. Tup’s praise had elicited about the same response as he gushed over his brother’s new marking, pestering him over the meaning that Dogma wouldn't dare give. 

Tup had whined in a teasing-but-not manner over why Dogma hadn’t invited him to watch. The answer was obvious.

His ori’vod was too busy getting _ tupped _ by Fives. 

Tup smacked him at the joke while Dogma choked on his breath from giggling, but it had been worth it. He felt so much lighter and happier than usual, and he hadn’t seen Tup fail in masking his laughter in so long. He missed feeling this free and loose. It reminded him of when he hadn’t known the pain of loss yet and the constant fear of being left behind didn’t stain his thoughts. 

He shouldn’t have believed it would last. Some naivete of his youth still managed to seep through the cracks and make him think everything was turning out for the better. He was branching out with people besides Tup, he was married, he had two beautiful pups, and it was like he could only go higher from there. 

Tup was reconnecting with him, hanging out with him even when Fives was available. Kix would sometimes join in on Dogma and Tup’s talks, and it was nice chatting with the medic. It was like being with Cyto in a way, and the familiarity was appreciated more than Kix could ever know. 

Everything started going downhill a few weeks after his riduurok. 

It always seemed like he would go on these amazing highs only to reach the next lowest point of his life like a repetitive cycle. Just the thought of the ups, downs and constant movement made his head spin and his stomach turn. He was back at square one once again and, like before, he didn’t want to acknowledge it. 

There wasn’t anything he would admit to himself. There was nothing to admit, so why were people looking at him so strangely? Why did everything feel off?

Yet, he still pushed it all away, despite the obvious signs that many shoved into his face. Kix had gotten into a habit of mentioning his son, Coyote, whenever they crossed paths or Dogma was sent to the medbay. He talked about the toll of having a child while young and Dogma really had no clue of why Kix would be talking to him about that. 

There was no way that Kix had found out about Emory and Ignatia because the medic would have been halfway to Coruscant already to beat up their buire for knocking up one of his shinies. Probably dragging half of Torrent with him.

Either way, Kix bringing up his son wasn’t relevant in Dogma’s opinion. It was good that he was learning this about Kix because he would have never suspected it. Dogma understood that Kix and Jesse were married, but he wouldn't have guessed they had a pup on Kamino. 

The way Kix went over the trauma involved in being separated from one’s child for both the parent and the pup made Dogma confused. There was even a tiny bit where he had discussed how he wished he had told someone else soon instead of just bottling it up, but Dogma wasn’t going to confirm any suspicions that Kix had of him having children. The medic had no proof and Dogma wouldn't give him any. Eventually, Kix stopped bringing it up. 

But, it did start making Dogma think about his kids and how strained their relationship might become. He could only see them when he was on leave or through brief holocomms when he found a time where he could slip away. 

He just hoped the times where he disappeared were less noticeable than General Skywalker’s. Dogma was only one of a million of the same face, he wasn’t a jedi or natborn and therefore unimportant; he didn’t receive as much attention as the natborn so it should be fine. 

Nevertheless, Dogma was beginning to miss his mates and pups terribly. It didn’t help that this sadness was being paired with an unshakeable nausea and sickness. 

He had known he was pregnant for longer than he would admit. It was hard to deny when it was right there in his face and would never leave. He was kind of disappointed in himself. That he had allowed this to happen again and it was all his fault. The pups were still so young, _ he was still so young _ , yet he was having another batch. He didn’t feel mentally prepared enough to go through a pregnancy again. He was scared and excited at the same time. He felt like a bit of a hypocrite because he had been cock-blocking Fives and Tup specifically so they couldn’t have a pup. 

There was also the possibility that Kix had figured out he was pregnant before he did, but he sort of pushed that away. He pushed Kix away as he pushed everyone else away. The first time was luck, so he had to up his tactics to hide the fact he was carrying again. No one could find out about what was happening if they were never around him.

It might have worked if this pregnancy wasn’t so damn different from the last. There had been a bit of optimism, but he got punched in the face by reality as he went further along. 

There were times where he had no choice but to be around his vode. There were times where he broke and had to be around Tup. There were times where Hardcase stared at him for too long, leaving Dogma with goosebumps and this chill. There were times where whispers would reach his ears causing him to rush out of the room as fast as he could.

Dogma felt heavier than usual. His bump was becoming a lot more obvious than the previous one. It was hard to hide and the constriction in his armor was starting to get uncomfortable enough to where he would admit it. 

His body was a mess and he felt like a slob. Being hungry was a very common feeling for him, but now he was actually sating himself by stealing rations. He had never had a full meal before and he didn’t know if he preferred it over starving. It was best to get nutrients to his pups, but that didn’t mean he had to like how soft he was getting. There was a definite layer that wasn’t there before. He hated how his body looked whenever he got a glimpse of himself in the mirror. After years of almost being exactly the same as his brothers, he didn’t know how to cope. He was supposed to be a certain way, but he just  _ wasn’t. _ He wasn’t this different last time. 

He was growing so fast, and he didn’t know if that was good or not. Cyto would’ve known what to do, but he wasn’t there. Dogma had almost turned to Kix out of desperation because he genuinely had no idea why it had gotten so much worse. Yet, he filled his head with the words Cyto had said when he was carrying Emory and Ignatia. Dogma was growing at a steady pace, even if it was faster, but that meant the pups were growing as well. It was undeniable that he was having multiples, so maybe this was more normal than he imagined. Pregnancies could be different. 

His babies were doing fine.

Everything would be fine. 

He can do this.

Then the comments started during a campaign. The whispers became too loud and Dogma could no longer ignore them. He had been an idiot to think that the cruelty of his vode couldn’t one-up itself. All of his symptoms were becoming well-known, but no one was connecting the dots. 

It had started out slow with someone calling him out for being out of breath, dizzy, and almost passing out during patrol. It wasn’t anything to dire, but then just a few days later someone had caught him in the refresher throwing up. It didn’t take long for the rumors to get to Dogma because people had taken notice of how he would disappear hours at a time. Dogma might have not even known if Tup hadn’t reached out to him to make sure he was okay. 

Apparently, they thought he was bulimic...which wasn’t a bad guess all things considered.

Others had noticed how he was taking more rations than he should and that he was running off to the refresher in the middle of the sleep cycle to throw up. It was better than someone realizing he was pregnant, but it still wasn’t remotely good. It put Tup into a protective streak and he wouldn't leave Dogma’s side for a few days, despite Dogma purposely running into Fives as often as he could. 

An action Dogma would’ve appreciated in literally any other circumstance was inconvenient now.

Like...a few months ago, or kark during his first pregnancy, but now? Dogma wasn’t’ really feeling contact at the moment if he was being totally honest. Being away from his mates has put him on edge.

His bump was getting more noticeable to his fellow troopers along with other features of his body. He wasn’t exactly a stick anymore. He was looking more like a stereotypical natborn omega based on the whispers about his curves and-

He didn’t like his body. He really didn’t. It always filled him with such a sense of disgust. Being so unused to change hindered his ability to accept the soft slopes and gentle ridges of his pregnancy. 

The only redeeming factors was that his pups were always there to comfort him in the absence of their buire. The euphoric bubbles that danced around without care were keeping him sane. There were even times where he wished he could be as ignorant and blissful as the pups moving inside of him.

He needed it more than ever because he was losing his control. No one was bothering to check if he was alright and, if they did, Dogma would just snap at them. Kix had told him if he ever needed anything, he would be there for Dogma. He was there for all his men no matter the occasion, but Dogma blew him off. 

He felt wrong in every possible way. There was this neverending sensation of discomfort and nausea. It was terrible in ways he hadn’t imagined a pregnancy could be. He was hungry, weak, yet there were moments where he was energetic and couldn’t even think of going to sleep. It was playing with his mind and he didn’t know how to handle it. 

Dogma was sticking to the regulations and orders of their general like never before. He didn’t want to be brought in or caught and decommissioned just because he let himself stray further from being a perfect soldier. He was only a few wrong steps away from being sent back to Kamino, and he wouldn't survive the journey. 

He could tell he was getting on a few people’s nerves with his hormones being all over the place. They were just getting more rude in relation to his growing snappiness which wasn’t helping anything. It only isolated him further than he already was which he hadn’t known was possible. 

There was something terrible in the way some troopers whispered behind his back about how his armor was looking tighter. They had noticed the bump, but they had no clue what it meant yet. Maybe Dogma wished they did at times because their scrutinization was unbearable, but then he would be decommissioned. 

The insults in the mess and showers were starting to affect his every action. He no longer showered when there were others around and he would close his eyes in order to pretend nothing had changed. Eating in the mess was out of the question with people commenting on his weight and how he seemed to be having a ration more than he should. 

He started sneaking all of his rations to the barracks to eat to make things easier. Some rations did begin to show up on his bunk, and he couldn’t tell if it was someone making fun of him or if Tup had been providing them. He hoped it was Tup. It would mean that Tup was worried about him and concerned that he wasn’t eating at all anymore. 

After the scare that he was harming himself, Tup hadn’t been around Dogma as much. He sort of missed the contact even if he hadn’t wanted it at the time. It was better having a shoulder to cry on instead of curling up in his bunk alone. Tup had been there for him on a few occasions. There were days where he was so sick he couldn’t get out of bed and Tup would cover for him. Tup had been supportive. He hadn’t said anything mean or hurtful, but he hadn’t been stopping any of the comments either from what Dogma saw. 

Of course, Dogma didn’t see how those who called him names mysteriously grew a black eye or lost a few teeth because they tended not to bother Dogma again afterward. If someone wished to make fun of or spread rumors about Dogma, it had to be out of Tup’s view. 

He was just trudging his way through until leave time finally came. There had been small debates in his head over whether or not he should stay on Coruscant and abandon the 501st for his family. 

He couldn’t leave Tup behind though. They were really all the other had. They were family and he couldn’t abandon that. Fox and Thorn had each other, their pups had their bui and buir. Dogma only needed to make it through the pregnancy, and everything would go back to normal. 

Umbara was the last deployment before leave, so he had to make it through that. Based on the information he was hearing, it shouldn’t be extremely long. He wouldn't give birth on the planet at least, but he would be far along. If only he hadn’t gotten pregnant after his wedding, then none of this would have happened.

He hadn’t even exactly told Fox and Thorn yet. He wanted to do it in person, but, as he got on the venator as they were being transported to Umbara, Dogma got the feelings he should tell them. They had about a day before they would arrive on the planet, so there was plenty of time to talk to his husbands. It didn’t even take long for him to slip away from the crowd in order to comm them. No one cared enough to follow the temperamental omega. 

Even if he had been the one to push the decision on himself, he couldn’t help but blankly stare at the holocomm for a few minutes. He should’ve just used a normal comm because there was this disdain as Dogma thought about his riduure seeing him and how he had changed. At least it would only show above his shoulders if he angle it correctly. 

Nevertheless, he had to throw himself into turning on the holocomm and reaching their channel. He wouldn't have done it otherwise and there was a second of panic when he realized it was immediately being answered. Dogma’s voice caught in his throat as the fuzzy, blue form of Thorn’s upper body appeared on the disc. 

“M’ika?”

Dogma could make out the tufts of Ignatia’s hair at the very corners of what the holo was projecting. Thorn was softly moving from side to side, so he must be cradling Ignatia to get her to sleep or calm her down. There was an easy distinction between Ignatia’s black and Emory’s blue-tinged red that was expressed even in the holo. 

Seeing his husband and daughter made the call worth it, however; having his second husband and son there would make it better. He missed all of them so much.

Thorn adjusted Ignatia so she was upright in Dogma’s view, pressing his lips against the top of her head before he addressed Dogma, “It’s been so long since we’ve heard from you. Is everything going alright?”

There was an attempt to say, “Yeah”, but it was muffled by Dogma covering his mouth to force down the sob that wanted to come out.

After giving himself a moment to collect himself, some tears still escaped as he breathed out, “Can I talk to Cyto? And can you get Fox too?”

“Whatever you want, M’ika.” and the soft tone of Thorn’s voice was enough to cause him to tear up, he hasn’t even been gone that long.

“Thank you,” Dogma was proud of how he managed not to stutter.

There had been a bit of fear that Thorn wouldn't return while he was praying the barracks would remain empty during the call. Getting lost in his head and doubt was a simple thing to do, despite knowing Thorn well enough to know he wouldn't leave him like that. Still, he was unnecessarily happy when his holocomm lit up again to reveal Cyto. 

“Thorn said you needed something? I assume you can’t or won’t go to Kix,” he raised a brow as he spoke, but there was no judgement in his gaze. 

Here Dogma goes again. Second time’s the charm. 

He peeked around the barracks as if expecting someone to hop in and reveal themselves as having watched the entire conversation. He really didn’t need any more rumors to spread about him. 

Taking a sharp inhale, Dogma released the news with his exhale, “I’m pregnant again and I don’t know what’s wrong.”

He could hear Fox cursing in the background which was the first sign Thorn had gotten Fox as well as Cyto. Dogma couldn’t discern if it was out of shock or annoyance, but he knew which one he preferred to be the truth. 

Cyto, on the other, definitely seemed furious, but the rage was smothered upon seeing how tense Dogma was. The medic couldn’t upset the person who the anger wasn’t even directed toward.

“Thorn. Fox,” Cyto muttered with a rigid but low voice, “I’m going to yell at you later, but your husband who you knocked up a second time by accident needs my attention.”

Dogma caught a few sentences of what was said when Cyto faced away from the comm and at his riduure. There were angry whispers over how “He’s still a kid and your ade practically just came out of the womb” along with questions of “What is wrong with you two?”

The only response received by Cyto as he directed his attention back to Dogma were the mumbles of two, disgruntled alphas. 

“What is bothering you about this pregnancy, Dogma?” Cyto presented the question as softly as he could, but the studying of his eyes as they scanned Dogma’s face for a reaction was still present. 

“It just feels wrong.” Dogma didn’t know how to put what he felt into words.

“In what way?”

The questions didn’t really give Dogma any way to express how he was dealing with his pregnancy. He tried to generalize the best he could, but the words seemed silly when they came out. 

“My bump has been growing faster,” wasn’t really a problem. He was self-conscious about how stupid it was to be bothered by that, but also because he still felt immense shame about the new layers. He didn’t wish to bring them up. 

Cyto sighed, lips pursing in thought before continuing, “Dogma. Does it have to do with your weight? I know being different from our aliit is odd, but it doesn’t take a lot for it to go away compared to natborns. Besides, it looks fine from what I can tell. I can give you a definite calorie count after we figure out how many you’re carrying. I’m assuming that you are six weeks along?”

“Yeah,” Dogma blushed.

They really were that predictable. 

“I could get Fox to fake a bomb threat against Senator Amidala to get you back on Coruscant,” Cyto offered and Dogma could practically make out Fox nodding along with the plan.

But, Dogma understood his general better than them.

“You don’t have to do that. We’re already on transport to Umbara. He would probably just leave us and go himself.”

“I guess you’ll either have to ask Kix-,” but Cyto changed gears when Dogma quickly shook his head, “-or I can guide you through the process. You might get caught, so I need you to be careful.”

“It’ll be fine, Cyto,” yet the medic didn’t seem reassured and Dogma’s tone of voice was not helping. 

Dogma wasn’t expecting Cyto’s plan, but it was on brand for him. “I need you to break into the medbay and get one of the handheld scans. You’ve seen Kix use one before, right?” Dogma had been fascinated by the simple device that the medics used to scan for injuries. He hadn’t stolen anything in a long time, so he hoped he wasn’t too rusty. 

“I didn’t realize that I could check on the pups with that.” If he had, he would’ve done it sooner. It would have saved him a lot of trouble. 

“It doesn’t check on their health, but it does count the amount of abnormal growths in your womb. We will have to check on them properly when you get back to Coruscant, but I think this will be the next best thing for now.”

“So...medbay?” Dogma clarified. 

Cyto nodded in confirmation, his instructions beginning, “Turn off the holo, keep the comms on.” 

Dogma did as he was instructed without hesitation. His worry for the wellbeing of his pups along with their possible were giving him more motivation than he had had in quite a while. Watching Cyto disappear as Dogma turned off the projector of the comm was disconcerting, but he was comforted by knowing his family was still there. 

“Are you alright?” Cyto checked after a few moments of silence, causing Dogma to smile a bit at his concern. 

“Yes, Cyto,” Dogma whispered into the comm as he made his way to the medbay. He tried not to make eye contact with anyone or draw attention to himself while still remaining confident in his stride. He only succeeded in not making eye contact with his fellow trooper, but no one was interested in him enough to follow him. 

He sighed in relief when he entered the medbay to find that it was completely empty. Stealing with any of the medics or injured vode around would have been too much pressure. He was, however, confident enough in his abilities to take the scan and return it before anyone would notice it was gone. 

Still, it was strange for such an active room to be this empty, but Dogma couldn’t be ungrateful for his luck. With what the scan looked like in mind, Dogma began searching for the device that would hopefully fix more problems than it would cause if he was caught. 

For whatever reason, the exact scan Dogma was turning the room over for was out in the open like it had been placed there without thought. Dogma was quick to alert Cyto on this as he quickly scooped the device up. 

Cyto’s first order was for him to stay in the medbay. If anyone came in, he could place the scan back in it’s position before playing it off like he was just trying to visit the medic for something minor. Dogma listened to every word Cyto said with intent and didn’t stray from a single syllable that graced his ears after traveling from the comm. 

Guiding him through the process of checking on his pups was easy enough with how fast a learner Dogma was. Cyto appreciated his enthusiasm and willingness to cooperate with him. Dogma was incredibly interested in how Cyto described even the smallest details of what he was doing. Cyto knew the intricacies of what was going on in ways he had never heard before.

It didn’t take much time for Dogma to learn that there were four anomalies in his womb. 

_ Four! _

The fact explained a lot about his pregnancy that he hadn’t wished to acknowledge. He was just carrying more pups, and he was sort of expecting it. Cyto confirmed that more of Dogma was required to carry more pups, and, if he lied to himself, it made him feel better. His instinct had been hinting at it for the majority, but he was relieved regardless of everything that had been happening to him. He could now go on with his pregnancy with the amount of pups in mind and properly care for himself accordingly.

Deleting the data off the scan was the hardest part of the process and Cyto had only performed this action once before so he hoped it worked with every scan. It was after a few tense minutes of Dogma taking the scan apart and putting it back together before the damn thing finally restarted. Dogma was quick to put it back where he founded it and then made his way to the barracks with the same air of isolation from before. 

After it was all said and done, Cyto gave the holocomm to his mates while Dogma sat down on his bunk. Even though he knew Cyto was putting them back on, Dogma could stop himself from blushing upon seeing both Fox and Thorn in frame as they held their pups. 

“So we’re having more troublemakers?” Fox asked, motioning toward a fussy Emory who seemed engrossed with chewing on his Buir’s fingers.

“Seems like it,” a smile broke through Dogma’s face as he placed his hand on his stomach, “Are Emory and Ignatia excited to have kih’vode?” It wasn’t often that he could even touch just the armor among his stomach without cringing. 

Emory and Ignatia mewled at his question, still squirming in the arms of their fathers’ as they tried to reach out to Dogma. Bu was there but  _ not there _ , and they didn’t like it.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Thorn smirked

Dogma cooed, waving at them through the comm, “They’ll be amazing ori’vode. I can tell. They’re going to be so good to the pup’ike.” 

“Is there any way we could see the pups?” Fox asked with an excited shine in his eyes. 

Dogma was flustered by the request, his arms quickly covering his stomach even if they could see it, “You don't want to. It's...it’s uh...different from last time…”

“Please,” both of his husbands gave him the puppy dog eyes and he couldn’t resist. 

Dogma rolled his eyes jokingly but gave in to the request. He placed the comm on his bunk and back away from it, angling it so his body would show. He took off his top armor as fast as he could in the hopes of getting it over soon. Yet, he hesitated when he began lowering his blacks to reveal his bump.

He pushed the nausea he had down as he fixed the blacks under his belly. It was a small curve, but there was a softness to it that Dogma was repulsed by. It had spread around his body like a disease, leaving the rest of him as plush as his midsection. He had heard the word “chubby” thrown around in the showers, and it felt too kind for how he felt about himself. 

He was close to tears by even looking at himself. He couldn’t imagine, he didn’t want to imagine, how his husbands were reacting to his disgusting form. 

The silence that was slowly killing Dogma was broken by Thorn muttering in disbelief.

“They're beautiful. You’re beautiful. I wish we were there to show you how perfect you are.” 

Dogma wished Fox and Thorn were there to kiss and touch as well, but the thought of them running their hands or mouths against him and his bump now left a shiver down his spine. 

He didn’t know if it was pleasure or disgust. 

However, based on how flushed he was, there had been a positive impact because of Thorn’s words.

Fox continued making him turn red, “You did a great job while carrying Emory and Ignatia. They’re absolutely amazing just like you.” He presented to Dogma the gorgeous children he had made, and there was a tad bit of pride that Dogma felt. 

“Thire looks great, but he has nothing on you,” Thorn teased a bit, but Dogma could tell by his eyes that he was saying the truth in his mind. 

“How is Thire?” Dogma queried innocently, striving to divert from the topic of his pregnancy as he brought his blacks back up.  _ Now that _ made him feel amazing. 

_ Nothing like not seeing his abdomen.  _

Thorn and Fox pouted as Dogma hid their younger pups, but Fox still answered his question, “His pup is about to be born hopefully.” Thire having a daughter with some senator was a big part of the Coruscant Guard gossip chain. There had been a few bets on who the father was, but nobody but the commanders, Cyto, and Dogma knew the identity of the man who had given Thire his little Cydonia.

“Be good for your baby cousin, Emory and Ignatia,” Dogma gave his advice to two pups edging on sleep and it was a cute sight seeing them snuggle into Fox and Thorn. 

Fox recognized the longing Dogma sent the way of their pups as he had seen it on many vode before. “You should stay with us on Coruscant after the next leave,” Fox offered, almost begging if Dogma listened closely, “ We can get you transferred.” 

Everything in his body was screaming at him to stay, but he couldn’t and they had to understand that. 

“No, I need to be here for Tup. Just for the time being. We’ll be together soon,” Dogma promised. A small time together was nothing compared to nothing. Besides, he couldn’t leave his batchmate and allow him to be alone. Dogma feared being left behind; it would be cruel for him to give that fate to Tup. 

Thorn and Fox didn’t look pleased, but they would respect his decision. Dogma was glad they trusted him enough to. 

He hoped that everything would go uphill from here on Umbara for him and his four pups. 

But, he should’ve listened to Fox and Thorn. 

He was a fool to go to Umbara. 


	5. A Highway To Krell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some Pre-Umbara suspense and Dogma not having a time

Dogma looked down at his stomach, and he couldn’t help feeling a lot of love. 

Emory and Ignatia were calm children or, at least, calm compared to the current pups growing in his belly. These four were a different story. It was a good sign. Hopefully, it meant his pups were healthy and strong.

Oh by the Force, these pups were _strong_ and Dogma knew that their chances of survival were high, despite his condition.

Dogma hoped his pups wouldn’t come early and that he would be back from Umbara.

A much larger trooper shoved into Dogma as he was gazing at his abdomen which caused him to jump a little and squeak. His pups seem to have felt the same way based on the increased speed of their kicks. Dogma ducked into a closet, locking the door behind him and slumped down to the floor. There was a second of hesitation before he slipped off his top armor and revealed his bump to the closet, the appliances in it, and himself. He put his hand on his slightly swollen stomach, leaning back into the wall with a sigh. 

He sighed and shivered, tears started to burn his eyes. Kark, he missed his mates so much. 

Dogma wished he had taken Fox and Thorn up on their offer. What he wouldn’t give to go back to their den with Emory and Ignatia shoving their little faces in his stomach as they tried to see who would get kicked more.

Gods, his kids were a riot. They were all going to be so chaotic together and he prayed for his husbands’ sanity. 

Because his sanity was going to run out in the next few days if someone touched his ass again. 

Dogma curled in on himself, briefly wondering if he could just stay here all night. It was more comfortable than the barracks at least. 

He was tired.

He was so tired.

The door was locked and he was semi-comfortable. It was at least as comfortable as he could be on the floor of a storage closet. 

Dogma groaned as his comm chimed. Tup was probably looking for him to see if he could switch shifts so he could spend time with Fives and Dogma would be in the medbay with Kix. 

He was prepared to say no. He hadn’t slept in a solid second and desired it more than ever. He leaned back, huffing loudly and whining as one of the pups took a shot to his back. 

If he took the shift now, he might as well just put on blast that he was pregnant. Kix would notice as soon as he was able to take an actual look at Dogma, not just glimpses when Dogma couldn’t walk off fast enough. 

And he wanted to learn, he really did. He could shoot a gun, he could march, knew his facing movements and commands and how to respond to orders with perfection. He could find a needle in a haystack, pick out an enemy in under ten seconds in a heavily dense forest, he was a trained soldier, and a damn good one. 

He understood basic first aid, but the things that Kix did, that Cyto did, it was...well Dogma thought it was cool. 

Orders and procedures were central to a soldier and a medic but, within the battlefield procedure, was null for a soldier. There were only orders. With a medic, it was different because procedure and orders were central no matter what or where. 

He wouldn’t mind learning how to heal, but not when learning would expose his pups and secrets. 

His thoughts continued drifting until the comm’s chime stopped before it began to ring again.

Preparing to say no, no matter what, he opened the comm and almost started sobbing with relief. 

He accepted the call and smiled at his riduure.

“Su cuy'gar,” he greeted tiredly.

“Su cuy'gar,” they both smiled, and there was movement and whining behind them as they backed up barely so they were still in the frame. Dogma chuckled as Thorn turned and grabbed Emory and Ignatia.

“Bu!” They both squealed, trying to reach and touch him. Yet, their hands passed through air.

There was nothing Dogma wouldn’t give to hold his pups right about now, to be with his mates and for the lives growing in him to be safe. Not...here. 

“Em’ika,” he smiled, pressing his nose to Emory’s as if they could actually touch before turning and doing the same to his daughter, “Ign’ika.”

His pups weren’t happy with the lack of actual contact, trying to claw at the air as if he was in the room with them and not systems away to show their displeasure. 

Fox cleared his throat, “How are you?”

Dogma mulled over that. He certainly wasn’t good and Fox was aware of that, but he was alive and his pups were healthy. 

“Surviving. The campaign is looking to be done a few weeks early if we gain the capital within the next week or so.”

Both nodded, knowing that wasn’t all of it but they wouldn’t press with little ears around. 

“Right, what about-” Thorn started before Ignatia interrupted.

“Bu, where sissers!” She was blinking attentively, bright eyes with so much intelligence despite her young age. Dogma loved her. 

“They’re in here, silly.” Dogma smiled, rubbing his stomach.

Her pout was everything as she tried to touch as if this time would be different, but her small hand went right through once again. Her betrayed glare as she stuck her tongue out of him would bring him through the rest of the night, reminding him of what he was fighting for and what he had to come back to.

Fox and Thorn were in agreement as they chuckled and Thorn lifted her up. He bounced her in his arms with a teasing grin as he kissed her cheek and she shrieked in rage. 

He rubbed his stomach to calm his now kicking children who seemed just as excited by Ignatia as Ignatia was by them. 

Dogma tried to rein in his laughter. The last thing he needed was someone hearing him and walking in. He wanted to relax, and an interruption would not be appreciated at the moment. 

Or ever.

Emory and Ignatia were still pouting in their fathers’ arms, and Dogma couldn’t help but find it adorable. 

“Have you thought of any names for them?” Fox asked, Dogma appreciated the distraction from the ever-growing pit of dread that opened up as he began longing for his family.

“Aran,” Dogma suggested, smiling thinly as Fox and Thorn started to laugh.

“What about Buurenaar?” 

“Too long,” Dogma responded, “but I like the concept.”

Fox nodded in agreement, ruffling Emory’s hair in thought. Their son was dozing off in Fox’s arms, cheek pressed against his bicep and mouth slightly open as he squinted at Dogma. Dogma had to stop himself from reaching out and stroking his son’s little cheek and playing with his soft hair.

“Buur?”

“Sounds too much like buir,” Dogma chuckled, “Buura?”

“Same problem.” Thorn said, mouth twitching so Dogma could see the slight scar pulling on his lip, Thorn has a different story for every scar ranging from a Grizzer to a Microwave incident. Each tale got more and more ridiculous until Dogma was too tired from laughter to ask anymore questions.

“Reanna?”

Dogma mused, it was pretty and definitely for their girl. He threw out an, “Urena?”

“Aare?”

“Renna?”

“Enaar?” Thorn suggested.

He stopped, as did Fox. He contemplated the name. Dogma quite liked it if he was being honest with himself. It was beautiful, and would suit his daughter. He could feel it. Even Ignatia seemed to have woken up enough to give her nod of approval.

“Enaar,” he agreed.

Fox nodded and Thorn’s stupid grin made Dogma’s legs feel like jelly. Sharp, white teeth that he vividly remembered sinking into his neck and making him feel amazing were exposed and reminding him how horny he’d been feeling the past week. 

Waking up feeling wet and wanting wasn’t really the best, especially when the people who were supposed to be taking care of it were systems away. 

He wasn’t about to complain to them though, knowing they’d be on the first transport shuttle to pick him up. Fox would probably bring all the transfer paperwork that he pretended not to have already filled out and ready to be processed, Rex’s forged signature and all.

Probably hand it to Rex with a smirk and let him know what he was there for.

Dogma heard his name and snapped back with an apology, smiling softly to brush off their concern.

“The other two?” Thorn asked, not at all convinced but he wasn't going to argue with him.

“Tra?” 

Dogma and Thorn nodded, “We’ll table it.”

“Verburyc?” Dogma suggested.

Both alphas shook their heads and Dogma agreed a little, naming their pup _loyal_ would be almost as much an insult as _Dogma_ was. 

“Yaim,”

 _Home_ . A reminder of what his pups meant to him. A reminder that he had to keep surviving to return _home._

“Yaim,” Dogma nodded, showing his approval.

Fox smiled and Thorn did as well.

“Yaim,” they echoed. 

“Ge’tal?”

“I’m giving you Aran, but I’m still trying to keep it on the down-low,” Dogma chuckled, Fox’s forwardness was funny on occasion and he’s gonna nip this in the bud.

“Dogma,” Fox whined.

“Fox,” Dogma mocked.

“Please.”

“No.”

“Plea-”

“Aran or Ge’tal.”

“Fine,” Fox’s whole face did the scrunch and Dogma loved it. Fox’s face was nice, but Dogma missed how expressive it was.

Made it easier to tell what he was feeling.

“Sarad?”

Flower. It was a lovely word and Dogma liked it.

“Ga’tarad?”

“Rose?”

“Y’know, like a rose thorn,” Thorn said.

All of them, Emory and Ignatia included, groaned. Hells, even the pups in his belly seemed to sense the awfulness of the joke and showed their cringe by kicking Dogma’s everything. Eight feet did a lot of damage.

“Ogir cuyir nayc dush nuhun guuror a buir nuhun,” Thorn cracked.

Thorn’s snickering made the joke okay but never again. Fatherhood had not treated Thorn well if this was where he was going.

“I like Sarad,” Dogma turned to Fox, trying to stop from wincing, “I refuse to name any of my children after a pun.”

“Aran.”

Dogma gave Fox a look, attempting to convey something along the lines of _if you want to live long enough to see Aran be born you should stop while you’re ahead._

And stop while he was ahead Fox did, turning to grab a bottle to start feeding Emory. Their son had begun to attempt to nurse from Fox, and the distressing lack of milk seemed to be too much for his mind. The betrayed squint he sent Fox’s way was everything and more. 

Dogma chuckled as Emory did a full body shift as Fox began to try to feed him. 

“So we have, Aran, Enaar, Yaim, and Sarad...I like that.” Dogma hummed and his mates nodded. 

“How are you...really?” Fox murmured, looking at him with a serious expression.

Dogma was about to say _fine_ again, but Fox wouldn’t believe him.

“Hungry, tired, and I don’t know how I’m going to do this with four pups if I’m being honest,” He murmured sleepily.

“Do you want us to try-” Fox started and Dogma shook his head. He wanted it, he wanted it really bad, but he couldn't leave. It would be too much of a hassle for everyone involved. 

“Do you want us to come?” Thorn asked, “I could maybe get away with a squad or two.” 

Dogma was surprised, _he could do that?_ If he could, Dogma wouldn't argue against it. It would be nice to have one of his mates by his side. 

“I’ll see what I can do,” Fox said.

This was a plan: he might get Thorn here with him.

But he couldn’t hope, he couldn't be disappointed that severely.

“Will you be okay?” Thorn asked.

Dogma nodded, leaning into the rack with a small sigh.

“Ni kar’tayl gar darasuum,” Thorn murmured, Fox echoing the sentiment.

“Ni kar’tayl gar darasuum.”

“Ret,” Fox whispered.

“Ret,” Dogma responded, and ended the call.

He stayed there for a few more minutes, trying to range in his emotions so when he inevitably got called out he would only cry a little behind his bucket. He stared at the comm with sadness, tears welling slightly in his eyes. He wiped his face before leaning back and breathing deeply. 

Hesitantly standing up, he balanced himself on the walls. He whined and held his stomach, holding his pups as they shifted and kicked at his hands.

“Calm down, please,” he whispered. 

They didn’t listen and he wasn’t surprised because they were his children. Dogma groaned at his troublemakers.

“Please,” he asked one last time.

He sighed in resignation as the resounding _no_ kicks began. Okay then. 

Brats.

No, he didn’t mean it...yeah he did.

He rolled his shoulders and cracked his neck. Dogma picked up the padding and strapped it around. His armor followed and he winced as he clipped the armor on. He hated it as much as his pups did. It was tight and miserable and they didn't need to kick him to tell him as such. 

His comm chimed finally with a call from Tup. Responding with a “yes”, he turned to the medbay. Kix was nice and, so long as they were distracted, then there wouldn’t be any risk of Kix finding out. 

Nodding to the troopers in the halls, he waited at the medbay door for a few seconds before he walked in. 

“Tup, I need you to-” Kix was speaking while looking down at his kit, “Oh, Dogma, where’s Tup?”

“Wanted to switch shifts,” Dogma shrugged.

Kix nodded and Dogma cocked his head, waiting for orders. 

“Can you come over here?” Kix asked and Dogma nodded, padding over to the older trooper.

Kix started gesturing to various tools and equipment, and Dogma and him worked in relative silence. 

He may still not yet have understood how medics worked, but he had worked with Kix enough times. 

“You know I have a son, right? I think I've told you,” Kix pondered, “He turns three in a few weeks.” 

Dogma stopped and shifted awkwardly, he _understood_. Emory and Ignatia will be a few months old in a few days and missing that hurts, missing out on all the important moments because they’re out here fighting in this stupid war instead. 

“With Jesse?” 

_Brilliant Dogma, your mental capacity is unchallenged and your ass is dumb. He’s already told you and they’re married of all things._

“With Jesse,” Kix said with a teasing grin.

Dogma resisted the urge to roll his eyes and gestured for him to go on.

“He just got his name: one of his squadmates called him Coyote and it stuck.” Dogma huffed with amusement. He sounded like a cute pup, “He doesn’t want to be a medic unfortunately.” 

Dogma couldn’t help but imagine that conversation. Gods, Jesse probably laughed his ass off during it and Kix was probably giving his trademark sourpuss expression. It was probably used as a point of bragging for a bit of time.

“Is he on a specific track?” Dogma asked.

“Aiming for the engineer track.” 

Dogma nodded and almost told Kix to _not worry, Emory and Ignatia currently seem to have ambitions to grow up to be tookas._ Instead, he asked, “Guess that it's cooler than being a medic?” 

Kix rolled his eyes and ruffled his hair. Dogma weakly fought him off alongside the urge to lean into the touch and purr. It was nice, felt amazing being touched in a familial way. 

...Okay, so he leaned in a little. Court martial him. 

Please, don’t. He’s too pregnant for jail.

He fixed his hair to the best of his ability: it was a pain to gel it down. He gave Kix a light glare, resisting the urge to stick his tongue out like a cadet. 

He’s a parent now, had to be mature now. One pup, Aran he decided, kicked him again in agreement. Or disagreement, maybe he wanted a fun parent. Sucks, that was Thorn’s job as a parent. Fox was the boring parent.

For now they were stuck with him, the only real parent. 

Kix leaned against him and scented him and Dogma had to blink back tears at the contact. It was something he had missed a little bit.

It made him miss his mates even more. He and his pups appreciated Kix’s kindness based on the way his pups calmed slightly at the new contact. He shut his eyes and scented Kix back lightly. 

It was nice to have a pack. 

“Does it ever get easier?” He whispered. 

He wanted to know. He needed to know if the soul crushing feeling of his pups being systems away would haunt him forever. He needed to know that the sadness at the thought of missing every major milestone was normal. He needed to know that he would be able to hold his head above the water. 

Kix looked at him with something akin to understanding before it faded to slight confusion, “It hurts, it hurts a lot. Everyday I look forward to comming him and as soon as I hang up I start the countdown again. It’s hard, but Coyote makes it worth it,” Kix said, eyes misting before turning to Dogma, “Why do you ask?”

“I’m just curious,” Dogma quickly backtracked, feeling the heat of Kix’s gaze, “I’m sorry for prying.”

“No, it’s okay,”

Dogma nodded, maybe he should tell Kix...maybe he wouldn’t have to shoulder this pregnancy alone. He looked at Kix and opened his mouth to tell him but the words got stuck in his throat. Questions of: _what would he be able to do to actually help? Would he tell Jesse and therefore all of Torrent? Would he tell the Captain and General? Why would he bother with me?_

He sighed. Telling Kix would not only put himself at risk, but his mates as well. They could all be decommissioned for this. He could lose his whole family if he made one wrong move, one wrong step. 

“Do you need anything else?” Dogma asked, the room was getting constricting and he needed out.

Kix turned to him, seeming to think it over first before finally relenting, “No, get some rest.”

“Thank you, sir,” Dogma said, brushing past the CMO and making his way to the barracks, desperately needing to lie down.

Maybe, when this is all over, he could have Fox request some cadets to be brought on the Venator for some field experience. 

Jesse and Kix deserved to see their son again. 

____________________

Dogma stepped into the showers and sighed as the water hit him. It was warm and nice and the pups loved it. Their feet took a small break from his body as they quieted.

He thought it was an empty ‘fresher.

He was wrong.

There was hand that lightly traced his hip and Dogma snapped. He was so karking done.

Done with the hands on him, done with the touching and the jeering. He was done just taking it because he was scared to death of making waves. 

Taking up the move that Fox had shown him when a natborn had touched his hip while he was sneaking over to them a few days before their wedding, he turned and grabbed Agate’s wrist. It snapped as he pinned him to the floor.

He won’t be anyone’s bitch.

Except for Fox and Thorn’s, because they talked it through beforehand and he was always safe and loved with them.

_Maybe if they arrested him he could be alone and not have to deal with this bullshit; maybe if they arrested him he could go home._

Before he knew it he was being dragged off the alpha, hissing and spitting. Dogma turned and blindly struck towards the hand pulling him away from the threat to his pups.

A cell was still solitude. No one could touch him there without being seen by cameras. No one would go seek him out because he was _Dogma_. 

Being put in holding seemed like a wet dream at the moment. 

Just being left alone would be heaven if he was being honest with himself. 

Thinking about being left alone and not touched had distracted him from the hands dragging him off of Agate and to the other side of the ‘fresher. 

His ears were ringing and he could barely see.

When he could again, he was being interrogated by the Captain.

Cool.

Arrest him already.

He could see a very concerned Kix and Tup on the corner of his eye, bully for them. Might the Captain consider court martialing him as to send back on Coruscant? 

Maybe if he committed high treason he’d get sent home faster; Fox could bail him out. He’s good at it.

Should Dogma care more? Yeah probably.

Did he though? Yeah if he was being honest.

That was a _crime_. And while Dogma loved Fox to pieces he did not love the regular fraud that he committed. 

Rex was asking him something, and Dogma didn’t really know how to answer him. He was _tired_ and nauseous and he just wanted to lay down in a nest and sleep.

* * *

Rex couldn’t even more. His men are insane, and their pack was going crazy. 

Dogma was supposed to be one of his few sane ones. Tup he could understand. He was one of the first ones to throw down on behalf of his brother, but he always explained why he had done so. But Dogma was calm about it, at least quiet about his situation. Rex doubted he was okay with it, but he probably didn’t want to start trouble and Rex could respect that. 

He had an open door policy that everyone was acutely aware of. Dogma could come to him whenever he needed it.

But, right now he needed to get things off his mind, and Kix was the most convenient option.

“Why would anyone do that?” 

“ _Rex_ ,” Kix hissed, “I think Dogma is pregnant.”

Rex froze turning to Kix.

_Dogma._

_Pregnant._

Rex gaped, trying to ask Kix if this was a joke. Like _Dogma_ being _pregnant_. That wasn’t allowed

Yet, Kix wouldn’t lie about this. This wasn’t the type of joke he’d make, and Dogma wasn’t the type to let a rumor like this fly.

Holy shit, Dogma was pregnant. 

Rex didn’t know if he should go in and ask Dogma about this, or if he should just leave it alone for the time being. He did know for a fact that he was going to ruin whoever knocked up one of his packmates.

They were in a war for kriff’s sake. 

And Dogma was practically a shiny; he was only nine years old.

Fuck, he would’ve done the same thing; he _had_ done the same thing. A brother had slapped his ass back on Kamino and so he naturally slammed him into the ground and completely ruined him. Cody let him have a few blows before pulling him off and then getting his pack together and having a comfort session, letting Rex know that they were there.

Maybe Rex should call Fox, he was threatening and had a no tolerance policy. Those who violated said policy would receive a rough punishment. His lecture would be harsh and hopefully his men could learn how to be decent fucking people.

Rex rubbed his temples and sighed, “Is he alright?”

“I don’t think so,” Kix sighed, “Rex...he may be pregnant, or he may not be and I’m just going crazy, but he’s still being harassed and that’s wrong.”

“I know Kix,” Rex said, because he did, he understood but _he didn’t know._ He couldn’t help when he was not aware of a situation.

“I can’t do anything without official orders,” Kix whispered.

Rex turned to him, “What can I do?”

“You know how you assign Tup to medic duty so he and Fives don’t make pups?”

“Yes?”

“Tup already switches shifts with Dogma on the regular. You might as well make it official,” Kix gave Rex a smile, “And just put Fives with Hardcase on recon. Switch Jesse back to scouting.”

Rex’s mind stopped on that, _no._ The last thing the GAR needed was _Fives_ and _Hardcase_ working together. They would probably blow up the planet given the opportunity... Hardcase would with Fives’ encouragement. 

Nevertheless, they would prevent the inevitable gaggle of Fives children for the time being. Gods, the fact that Dogma got pregnant before Tup did was an odd one.

Dogma was ambitious and isolated, and those statements did not coincide with being pregnant. Rex prayed it was a consensual baby-making process, even if the babies were a surprise. 

“Captain?” Kix broke him out of his thoughts. 

“I’ll see what I can do.” 

“Thank you,” Kix said.

“What will you be having him do?” Rex asked.

“The basics. Probably organization in the back. It keeps him away from others, lets me keep and eye on him, and takes his mind off of the situation.” Kix crossed his arms and huffed, “And if he comms his mate I might be able to catch him this time.”

Rex took a second to muse on it and decided to press. Kix was a notorious gossip, “Who are you thinking?”

The clearly fake crossed expression on Kix’s face caused Rex to roll his eyes before Kix relented.

“It’s not Hardcase’s.” Kix said with a wry grin, “Manda knows he’s done nothing but bitch about how ‘Dogma won’t even look twice at me’.”

Rex snickered, Hardcase and Dogma would be an interesting pair that’s for sure. The day that the Senate did something useful would be the day Dogma showed an ounce of interest in Hardcase.

Rex tried to think back on who Dogma interacted with.

“Tup is definitely not on that list,” Kix said, “Because he’s been exclusive with Fives since his first heat.” 

Rex nodded and continued to think, “Do you think it’s anyone from Torrent?”

“I doubt it. It wouldn’t make sense,” Kix said, “The partner probably would know and send him my way.”

“Then who else?” 

Kix weakly shrugged and Rex groaned, “Who else?”

“Dogma was gone for his first heat,” Kix suggested, “We have four battalions to choose from.” 

“Bly’s guys were shipped out the next day. Dogma came back three later, so it wasn’t them.” 

Rex continued to think. Wolffe’s boys were usually responsible, and they usually mate amongst their pack.

“That move...when he broke Agate’s wrist,” Rex mused, “That’s a CC move.” 

“Are you suggesting another CC?” Kix asked, slight disbelief that faded as he thought more, “Do you know...where the move is from?”

“Alpha-17 which narrows it down to everyone but Neyo and Bacara.” 

“That...doesn’t help all that much,” Kix said slowly, “Maybe to Dogma’s first heat?”

“Wolffe was planetside...I don’t really remember anyone else,” Rex recalled after a little bit of thinking.

“What about the Guard?”

“Fox and Thorn are off. Both are mates and I doubt they’d add a third.” 

“Thire?”

“Just gave birth to a purple pup.” 

“It’s not Stone.”

“Nope,”

Rex sighed and leaned back, “how do you know that Dogma is even pregnant?”

Kix looked at him, “He reacted.” 

“What?”

“He reacts when I mention Coyote,” Kix sighed and Rex stopped. Pups were extremely personal to a trooper, especially while they were systems away. “He asked me ‘how I dealt with it.’ Rex he _understood_.”

Rex nodded, he felt for them. He really did. Pups were difficult to manage, especially long distance. 

“I'll make those orders official,” Rex said, “Keep him safe.”

Kix nodded and Rex saw himself out.

He was gonna need a stiff drink for this. 

* * *

Dogma laid down and whimpered. 

He shook violently in his bunk, hands wrapped about his stomach. He closed his eyes and curled in on himself. 

Dogma looked down at his stomach, and he couldn’t help feeling a little bit of hatred.


	6. Fifty Shades Of Krell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> we have returned for more angst and pain. It will get better...maybe. Krell be showing he has some tricks up his skeevy sleeves and one of our DM cliches reveals itself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, we're back!!
> 
> So this is just a disclaimer, this chapter does explore sexual exploitation of a subordinate as well as semi-explicit sex. For those of you who don't want to read, we provided a more adequate summary in the next chapter so you have an idea of what went on from a different character's POV so it's only speculation. 
> 
> It starts underneath the second breaker.

There was something off about Umbara that Dogma couldn’t exactly describe without sounding insane. He felt that the others would understand; they too had felt how draining the planet was. 

It seemed to bring all of Dogma’s fears and vices to the surface until there was nothing else he could focus on. He was beyond dazed and every order spoken to him took longer than it should’ve to process. The fact he wasn’t dead yet was a miracle in and of itself. Being a liability to himself and others on the battlefield was not how he planned to spend his pregnancy. 

There was a bit of regret in his decision to stay with Torrent, but also regret in keeping the pups. He wanted them, he did, but this wasn’t the time or place for more children. That was what he told himself when he was level-minded. 

There were certain times where his self-loathing hit more than others. He was able to keep it down around his fellow troopers because he was too preoccupied with surviving to think about the intricacies of his pregnancies, but when he was alone was a different story. 

It was why he was a bit reluctant to follow General Skywalker’s order to “get some rest.”

Getting rest meant listening to his thoughts for hours on end until sleep finally showed him mercy, but his slight protest was undone by Rex telling him that the _General_ was giving him an order. Dogma didn’t want to get on Rex’s bad side more than he already seemed to be, even if Rex appeared more concerned than upset. The soft glance Rex sent him as he walked away was something Dogma had barely noticed as he hurried to catch a few hours before they headed off into battle again. 

But, like all the times before, rest wasn’t found easy. He sat on his bunk, isolated and sobbing as quietly as possible so not to wake the few brothers in the barracks. His armor had been ripped off after he had made sure there were no prying eyes to see him and was now secured in storage at the very bottom of the bunk. Dogma preferred having a top bunk: it was the only way for him to be taller than Tup or any of his vode for that matter and it also gave him some privacy. 

Being on the top bunk made it harder for certain people, Tup, to see how he had curled in on himself like the pathetic omega he was. Tearing off his armor, as relieving and comfortable as it was, only revealed the one thing he loathed to see: his repulsive body.

The blacks didn't hide anything anymore, stretching and clinging tightly to every curve. He loathed the little paunch that stuck out into his lap and filled his palms when he cradled it. He hated the dark lines running along it and how soft it had made him.

He was a soldier. He was not supposed to be soft. 

Staring at it didn't help matters, but Dogma was trying to love it. He had loved his bump during the previous pregnancy, so what made this any different? Dogma wished he could say he didn’t have an automatic answer to why this pregnancy was different, but he did and he couldn’t deny the truth of it. Four pups were taking a toll on his mind and form, a form he despised more with each passing day. 

Didn’t he love his pups? Hadn’t he been excited and relieved to find out they were healthy? Hadn’t he felt blissful when naming them with his riduure? Hadn’t he been protective of them during the first few weeks on Umbara?

He had learned the subtle differences between his pups and their kicks. Aran was fussy, prone to tantrums and movement in the night. Enaar almost always responded to Dogma eating and Sarad loved to kick his bladder while inciting the other pups to act. Yaim was the calmest pup who only kicked when his siblings were pressuring him. He knew that wasn’t how pups worked, but it helped imagining them with personalities. He had _loved_ them so much.

He didn’t understand why the change was made now when his body had practically been like this since Emory and Ignatia. He looked as he did when he was full term with the twins. Gods, Dogma was a terrible omega and bu. He couldn’t even love the children that were growing inside of him, only listening to his selfish thoughts.

Thorn and Fox would be so disappointed in him. They might even take the kids and never let Dogma see them again. It was only right, Dogma deserved it for being an awful parent. 

Hopefully, Thorn would arrive soon like he had promised. Dogma was anxiously counting the hours until they commed him to confirm the approval for Thorn’s departure.

Kix had been nice to hang around with too even though Dogma couldn’t help out with medical as much as he used to with the percentage of injuries rising. He got in the way more than he helped, and it hurt a bit when he stopped getting shifts for medbay. 

On the bright side, Rex hadn’t punished him as harshly as he anticipated after what he did to Agate, but the alpha proved to be more aggressive as of late. Agate had the _audacity_ to claim that Rex was showing favoritism because Dogma was a “weak omega just like the captain.”

Tup had done his best to scare him off and Dogma would avoid him whenever he noticed him, praying the alpha hadn’t gotten a peek of him. He hoped what Agate had said about Rex wasn’t true, but it was the only explanation Dogma had for the light slap of the wrist Rex had given him. He was just given more shifts with Kix for about a week, and it was honestly Dogma’s favorite week on Umbara. 

It was the last decent week he had before things would go to complete hell.

* * *

Like every deployment before, Umbara only got worse. A deployment only turned enjoyable at this point once victory was in their grasp and they could finally be given another assignment or leave. After Umbara, the 501st was scheduled for leave, so Dogma knew he was one among hundreds of vode living out of sheer will as they clawed and held on to the possibility of a break. They couldn’t be the unlucky bastard to go down right before they were allowed to relax on Coruscant. With leave, there was the possibility Dogma could finally transfer to the Guard once and for all. Umbara made him realize how much he hated being away from his mates and the twins. 

Dogma wished to live long enough for his riduure to help him remember how much he loved his pups. He knew he cared about them, but it was difficult to focus on positive emotions at the moment. It had seemed like everything was finally coming to an end, the capital at their fingertips, until General Skywalker was sent back to Coruscant. The Chancellor had summoned him for an undetermined reason. Commander Tano had already been on Coruscant for her padawan training, so it left the 501st Legion under the command of General Krell. 

At the beginning, the Besalisk becoming their temporary general wasn’t the biggest problem Dogma had with the new plan. It was the fact that there seemed to be an actual problem back on Coruscant involving the Chancellor that wasn’t made up by his riduure and would most likely require their attention on top of General Skywalker’s.

Thorn wouldn't be coming to Umbara like he had promised. It pained Dogma, it hurt so much that he would be alone longer. He felt abandoned, even though he knew his riduur had no choice in the matter. He knew that Thorn would’ve been here if he had the option to do so.

At least he still had his pups. There were times where he could still glance down and couldn’t help but feel affection rising for them. He hoped it would remain that way, their pups deserved nothing less.

For a time, it did. The new general definitely had far different tactics and morals than Skywalker, but it was nothing he couldn’t adapt to. Maybe it was this compliancy that ruined him further down the line. 

In between the times where Krell would disappear and the times where he was actually there, he was scrutinizing the actions of the clones while he made his way to Dogma. 

He wouldn't have cared if it had only happened once, but it was hard not to notice how Krell gravitated to him out of all of his vode. There were more than a few instances where the alpha got too close while eyes wandered Dogma’s form, up and down with certain aspects of his body getting more attention than others. 

People really liked his hips for some Force-forsaken reason, Krell included. He gets it, he has nice hips. But his hips were Fox and Thorn only territory. The general hadn’t even seen him without armor on, so he had no idea why he was attracted to his body compared to everyone else’s. Maybe it was because there was a visual stiffness to the armor and the flexible cushion was pushed out just a bit more than it should be. 

Either way, Dogma only allowed two alphas to appreciate him like that, but there was nothing he could do about Krell staring other than avoid him. It reminded him of Hardcase, but at least Hardcase had backed off when asked and wasn’t a complete creep.

When he couldn’t avoid him, he was left feeling gross and revolting. The hatred for the bump and himself increased with every centimeter Krell got closer, every second where he stared until Dogma could feel something cold run across his spine, making the hairs on his neck stand on end. 

He _swore_ he had felt one of Krell’s hands brushing against his thighs and stomach as he passed, but he had nothing to prove it. There was nothing he could say without seeming like he was insane.

If he was being honest, he was very uncomfortable with the situation; yet, the last time he tried to defend himself hadn’t gone well. Even if Rex hadn’t gone with a harsher punishment, Krell was a Jedi where Agate was just another trooper. A clone couldn’t go against a Jedi. 

Dogma would actually get decommissioned this time around if he fought back. Krell was his superior, and he hadn’t even done anything Dogma could report him for. He prayed it was all in his head, so he let himself wholeheartedly believe it. 

Such a silly idea to have. He was so dazed and tired, the pups sucking the energy out of him along with battles. The touches and gazes were nothing more than projections. Krell wasn’t actually doing anything, probably didn’t even notice him. It was only his hormones and libido playing tricks on him. 

He must have been pretending that the alpha’s scent was overpowering every other smell and that it clung to him until he washed his skin red. It wasn’t like Tup had been the one to bring up the stench to him and it wasn’t like he had tried to avoid Krell as much as possible afterward only for the stupid aroma to still be on him. 

No, it was only in his mind. 

But, Kix had even noticed that he was smelling like Krell. There had been obvious concern as the medic pulled him to the side and questioned him, but Dogma had told him it was all fine. Krell hadn’t done anything to him. They both knew that was just how some natborn alphas were, even General Skywalker released his scent like this when he was stressed or angry.

Regardless, he started being loyal out of pure necessity and wanting not only to leave Umbara, but for Krell to leave him alone. Even if Krell wasn’t doing anything, he didn’t want the possibility of Krell beginning to focus on him. 

Once they finally left this hell, Dogma could put Pong Krell behind him and forget the Jedi had ever existed with the help of his riduure.

The actions and plans of their temporary general were suicidal and it was almost like he wished for them to fail. He couldn’t voice this concern because, even if the orders were illogical, he needed it all to over. Resistance would result in more time spent away from his family. 

Thorn most likely wouldn't be coming, and he was done questioning where his riduur was. Accepting he would never arrive would be the best course of action. It would hurt less than the continuous disappointment. Comms were useless since outside communication went down a day or two after Krell was assigned to the 501st.

Although the others weren’t nearly as silent about their distaste, they were just as listened to as Dogma. Hearing Rex be called by his number while the captain tried his hardest to convince Krell to go with a more reasonable strategy was numbing. It showed how the man truly didn’t see them more than products, but it also reassured Dogma that Krell wasn’t acting strange around him. Krell wouldn't lower himself to a clone’s level. 

Dogma did agree with Rex’s plan to scout for a secure route to the nearby airbase. It was used as a supply staging area for the Capital’s defense, so it would be critical to take the base over for victory. They needed to be smart about taking control of the airbase, but that couldn’t be done if they had a frontal attack. Yet, it was undeniable that Krell’s method would be faster if successful, despite the possible losses. 

There were other vode who were like him, they just wanted to get it over with. They didn’t care which method they took, but Dogma was the most verbal of this group. He knew he sounded like he was blindly following Krell, like a shiny, but they had no other choice. The 501st couldn’t go against the order of a Jedi, especially this one who wasn’t as lenient as General Skywalker or General Kenobi. 

He knew he was annoying certain vode with his outspokenness, but at least Rex had tried to calm Fives down and keep him from causing more of a mess. Rex and Fives had both put up some protest at the beginning of Krell’s command, so it was good to see how Rex had realized the reality of their situation. 

As expected, there were heavy casualties on their side as they were executed like animals by the Umbarans. Krell criticized Rex’s retreat and refused to send Torrent any reinforcements. Dogma actually thought that Krell would like Rex’s idea for a stealth mission because of how risky and quick-to-victory it would be, but he hated it. Either it was because the plan was coming from Rex or that their claim to the airbase would be the result of a clone’s idea, not Krell’s. 

Either way, Rex had executed the plan without Krell’s permission. Dogma was fine with the idea, even though he said enough to stay on the good side of Krell, because he recognized that it would help them capture the Capital faster. Standing their ground to buy time for the two alphas, the two incredibly strategic and intelligent men who lost their brain cells when in the vicinity of each other, drove Dogma to worrying. He had gotten so close to death’s door. His pups kicked wildly in him. Even little Yaim, who was usually so calm, was kicking at his insides along with the more active Sarad, Aran, and Enaar. 

Seeing Hardcase fly in so haphazardly with Fives was the first time Dogma was genuinely excited to see him. Krell had given the victory such a cold acknowledgement as if their goal hadn’t been to take the airbase and it had hindered them instead of helping. There was no joy or satisfaction on his face as he told Rex that the losses were the price of victory, but it clearly hadn’t been a win to the general based on how he acted. 

The stern and empty gaze of General Krell unnerved Dogma, but he was happy to finally get some rest and a proper wash after days spent out in battle or walking. The airbase was comfortable and had enough room for all his vode. Umbara was looking up, they had finally reached their high. It would be smooth sailing from there.

* * *

The first night spent on the airbase was sort of relaxing. The legion was mostly surveying and checking the base over for supplies or traps while others began working on fixing the ships Hardcase and Fives had previously stolen. It wasn’t so bad. Dogma had found some enjoyment sitting on Tup's bunk, feeling Enaar make light flutters in his belly while he ate and carried a light conversation with his batchmate. 

It wasn’t until the second night on the airbase that General Krell called him up to his private quarters. Dogma had only found it strange because the summons wasn’t asking for him to go to the command center. 

There was a little voice in his head that worried over why Krell was ordering him to meet with him. He could’ve found out about the pregnancy and was going to decommission him for it, or Krell could have seen him as being a part of the insubordination of Torrent. Krell could want information about what Hardcase and Fives did, maybe what Rex planned to do in the future, but Dogma wouldn't give up anything about his vode. 

Nevertheless, he set off towards Krell’s quarters a few minutes before his sleep cycle would start, the time at which Krell requested for him to arrive. Tup had waved him off, wishing him good luck for the shift Dogma had lied about having. There was this shame Dogma felt, and he didn’t wish for more rumors to spread about him. As few people should know about the meeting as possible, it would minimize the whispers behind his back to their usual amount. 

He still felt bad about lying to Tup, it was hard for Dogma, but Dogma could recognize that Krell also didn’t want anyone to know. Dogma couldn’t risk upsetting the Jedi, even if he was curious and nervous over intentions. 

Dogma managed not to pass any vode on his way to the elevator that would take him up to the private room being used by the general. There was almost this shame he felt as he shuffled his way over to the elevator, his body closing in on itself to become as small and unnoticeable as possible. The elevator ride up was a bit more nerve-wracking than going up to the quarters of his riduure, but it was no less important. 

The elevator had the same glow of light teal, the architecture pretending that the planet wasn’t as grim as it was. The brightness of the airbase was welcome after living in the dark where the sources of light where everything wanted to kill them. 

Gnawing at his lip, Dogma thought over the possibilities of what would happen once the elevator reached the top, the end of its path and the location of the quarters. There would be no time to collect him because as soon as the door opened he would be entering the room. There was no hallway to guide him, only a direct entrance into a closed space with Krell. 

Hoping the door was jammed, Dogma was quickly disappointed when it slid open to reveal everything he had been anxious to see. It was like the door recognized that he needed a push, for it closed right behind him as soon as he got the courage to walk out into the space. 

He preferred not to acknowledge that Krell was in the room, but it was impossible to ignore the four-armed Jedi meditating on the floor in front of a bed. There was a disconcerting nature to how stoic the figure on the floor was, yet Dogma understood that Jedi were expected to meditate in order to center themselves. They just did that, and Dogma shouldn’t feel as taken aback as he was. Still, he tried to fill his mind with the parts of the room that didn’t involve Krell. Aran kicked in agreement with this choice, so Dogma began glancing around. 

There were two similarly lit doors, the same teal as before, that provided a refresher and shower along with a closet. The only other item was a simple desk overlooking the outside world with a cushy and sturdy chair that reminded Dogma of how simple certain Jedi lived. Maybe Krell was more of a minimalist than the others he had met, but it was just a temporary space and the objects inside had been there long before Krell. Either way, it didn’t look much more intricate or stocked than the barracks being used by his brothers. Main differences were the bed, which appeared to be more comfortable than Dogma had ever rested on, and the private showers. Having a shower and refresher to himself must have been nice. 

Dogma’s plan to ignore Krell had worked, but he didn’t even take notice of how the Jedi had opened his eyes, his gaze turning to the trooper in the room. Dogma didn’t see the smile that spread across his lips that was covered as he calmly stood to greet his guest. 

However, the omega did pay attention when Krell loomed over him, reminding him how tall the general was. No words were spoken, only a subtle call in the back of his mind that beckoned him further and closer to Krell. 

There was a power to the Jedi, as was expected, but it didn’t feel like the sureness of General Skywalker or the serenity of General Kenobi. It was cold and harsh, yet Dogma couldn’t back away. 

His position was more secured with the low, rumbling drawl of Krell’s voice as the alpha made it aware why Dogma was there. 

“Out of all the clones under my command, I least suspected you of stealing rations.” The Jedi said smoothly, voice grave as he looked at Dogma.

So that was what the summons had been about. This wasn’t as severe as Dogma thought, but a light blush still fell on his cheeks with how intensely Krell was staring at him, judging him. 

It had been harder to secure rations so out in the open, yet he had managed to provide for his pups. He felt there were less people that were helping him than before. However, rations would still mysteriously be put aside for him. Oftentimes, Kix would give him a portion of his. The medic was known for doing this to everyone, so Dogma didn’t pay much mind to it. He did try to put down the offer, yet he couldn’t turn it away with how Kix insisted. 

But, that all fell aside with Krell’s words. He had been caught, and he might not be able to get the appropriate amount of nutrients for his pups anymore. The alpha had walked over to him, just a step away, with his scent invading Dogma’s nose and other senses. Krell was dangerously close, their lips could meet at this distance if the Jedi decided to lower himself. 

“Though now that I get a closer look at you, it makes sense. You have acquired more rations than permitted, especially with the recent cut in supplies. This selfish behaviour is taking away from the other products.” He let out a cold chuckle, “If I had my way, there would be nothing at all. Just watching the weak starve out first while the strong wither away, but I would keep you just like this.” One of Krell’s hands found its way to the curve of his ass while another hand touched his hip, running up and down his side. Dogma felt his skin chill as Krell’s cold hands went under his blacks.

A similar smirk to the one Dogma hadn’t detected before appeared on his face and this time Dogma couldn’t unsee. 

“You’re as perfect as I imagined.”

Dogma had no idea, he didn’t want to even attempt to understand why this was happening, why Krell was saying and doing this. He wouldn't be divulging this unless he was certain he could make Dogma never utter a word about it to anyone else. That was what unsettled Dogma more than anything. What else would Krell do?

His pups were the obvious go to. They made him vulnerable, weak. Added weight would slow him down, and the pups had been more active as of late, more of a distraction. Hormones were telling him to attack, that there was a threat to his pups, yet he shot that down with a spike of anger. General Krell was still a Jedi, and Dogma owed him his loyalty.

Dogma didn’t know what Krell would do, what he would say. But, he knew one thing, he had to get out of here before Krell learned of the pups. 

The hands on him weren’t enough to keep him from running and telling every vod who would listen about what General Krell had declared while groping him. Even if people didn’t like Dogma, they hated Krell more than him. They would soak up every word and turn on the Jedi. 

Clearing his throat, Dogma attempted to back up. If he tried hard enough, he could still make it to the elevator before Krell could catch him. 

Krell tightened his grip on his hip and butt before his plan could even become fully developed, pulling Dogma flush with Krell’s body. Dogma was flustered by how he had to place his hands on Krell’s torso so that there would be any distance between them. 

There was an initial panic as Krell reached back in his pocket for something Dogma couldn’t see, maybe his lightsabers to kill him, but he was stunned when Krell only brought back a single ration bar. 

He offered it to Dogma, loosening his embrace enough for Dogma to comfortably hold it. Dogma was curious over why he was being given it and if it was poisoned. Regardless, food was food. Based on the wrapping, it was the good not-flimsi-flavored rations that had a hint of fruit in them. His stomach rumbled, his little Enaar ordering for him to take the food, so he had no choice. He scarfed it down, Krell leering with his eyes taking him in graciously. 

This was the gaze he had thought he had seen before on the battlefield. He hadn’t been hallucinating or he could still be in the dream. He hoped it was a dream. 

“It won’t happen again, sir. Can I please leave?” Dogma whimpered as he tried to escape, “I won’t say anything.”

He didn’t care about telling anyone anymore. All that mattered was leaving, but his body felt so heavy like it was being tied down by an invisible weight. Dogma couldn’t stop himself from softly yawning as he rested his head against Krell’s chest. 

He was so tired he could barely move. 

Krell hummed thoughtfully at his request, a low roll erupting from his throat, “I can put this all in the past. All I ask for is a small favor.” 

The Besalisk’s hands were absorbing and mapping every twist of his body. The movement across his skin was everything but delicate, leaving red imprints on his skin. It was as if Krell was hoping to show his claim. Dogma attempted to pull himself back together enough to try and push away again, but this time when Krell pulled him back it was so sudden and rough. There was little regard to the crushing sensation Dogma was experiencing, and Dogma worried over how easily the Jedi could destroy his skull with just one hand. Krell only seemed to care about the gasps it exhibited from the omega.

Krell leaned down until his lips were brushing Dogma’s ear, his breath warm on Dogma’s face as he tried to gather his bearings, “It would be a shame if the others found out you were carrying.”

Dogma stopped struggling and the grip on him loosened. The Jedi couldn’t sense the unborn, Dogma knew that, and he had been so _careful_ in hiding the pregnancy. There was no way anyone, especially Krell, should know. 

Krell laughed, as if he had read the distressed omega’s mind, “The four of them are strong and gorgeous, just like their carrier. Jedi are not permitted to sense the unborn for it borderlines the Dark Side with how intrusive it is. I was drawn to you regardless. I couldn’t help but peek. Besides, I’m no Jedi.”

Dogma whimpered into his chest. Not truly understanding or taking in the full depth of what was said. The words were too fuzzy, and his brain wasn’t processing any outside input. All he was understanding was that this situation was bad and Krell was worse. 

“I can provide you with extra rations. You just need to keep this a secret and I’ll keep yours,” Krell offered, knowing he had Dogma mentally in his grasp as well. 

“Is that all?” His words were slurred and his vision blurred. Dogma hoped that was all Krell was asking for.

“I only ask for a small, extra favor.” Krell nipped his ear, and Dogma winced as sharp canines dug into the skin, no doubt tearing it apart if Krell was in the mood to do so, “You come to me every single sleep cycle and every time I summon you. During these visits, you will become-,” Krell sniffed into his hair, causing Dogma to snap into awareness, “-my beautiful pet. You will do anything I want you to do with no hesitation or reluctance.”

This was the moment where breathing became a chore, where he became so terrified that his eyes were dusted with tears. He was trapped. He couldn’t think. He couldn’t scream. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t get help. 

Krell whispered into his hair, kissing the top of his head in a mockery of tenderness, “If you even think about running away or saving yourself, I promise you that pups are far more fragile than you think. You will do what I want if you want to keep them alive.”

Dogma cringed as Krell ran his nails across his armor, right above where his babies were forming. 

He went limp in Krell’s arms and Dogma immediately submitted. Krell led him deeper into the room, sitting on the bed while Dogma was forced to stand in front of the Jedi. His wobbling legs reminded him of a newborn animal. Somehow, he had already grown dependent on the alpha’s presence. He stood directly in front of Krell, flushed face completely visible to the Jedi now. The general smirked at Dogma’s now vulnerable state and spoke.

“Strip for me.”

The order should have been more unexpected, yet somehow Dogma could discern what was going to happen to him. He tried to save some of his dignity by turning around, blushing a deep red like his husbands’ armor, but his arm was yanked back. 

Krell growled, “I want to see your eyes.” Dogma had heard his eyes were mesmerizing before with their golden hue, but he had never before hated this factor until now. 

His armor and blacks slipped off his body while Krell gave him commands to go faster or slower, peeling blacks off in some areas whereas in others they were ripped off. Every command was followed by Dogma giving a polite, “Yes, sir,” as Krell had ordered. He had to show respect to his higher-ups. 

The tears stopped pooling in his eyes to flow down his cheeks. It was obvious how different his figure was after the armor was shedded, how much fuller he was. He put a hand on his naked baby bump to steady to himself, heavily breathing as Krell licked his lips at the sight. He felt exhausted, but he continued until there was nothing covering his skin. 

He kept going until Krell was satisfied which was just a little after Dogma had started thumbing his boxers to pull them down. Then Krell dragged Dogma onto his lap, the omega straddling him. He grabbed Dogma’s bare ass experimentally before giving it a squeeze. 

Krell snarled as he began sniffing and nipping Dogma’s neck, “If I had any less control, I would burn off the marks.” Krell backed off a bit to examine the marks, lapping at them, “Such a slut. You need two alphas to fill you up properly.”

Dogma took a deep breath in, shaking in Krell’s grip as he tried to imagine his mates here with him instead of the general. 

“Don’t worry. My species can do the work of two humans. I’ll be sure to fuck more pups into you after your bastards are gone.” The alpha grinded up against his omega, forcing the small trooper to feel the two, hard dicks that would soon be inside him. Krell went back to teasingly nipping his neck, a sharper bite with each new nip but never hard enough to reach his bonding gland. 

While rubbing his belly, nails leaving a small trail of pain as Krell murmured against his lips, “I’ll keep you nice and bred and _mine._ You’ll be a beautiful mother. Your body wasn’t made for fighting. Look at how soft and delicate you are, even with your strength. You have a perfect omega’s figure, only made for carrying pups and pleasing your alpha. Beautiful and fertile.”

The omega mewled against Krell’s lips as he was pulled into a kiss. Hands covered all the areas where clothes used to be, making him pant into the alpha’s mouth. There was a hand gripping his chest, another squishing his thighs, a third caressing his belly, and the last was palming his dick.

“You like that?” Krell accented the question by tickling his ear with breath, nuzzling into his neck, “Force, it hurts to wait. I would bond you now, but I’m patient. I need the others out of the way. Hopefully, Dooku will let me have you as a prize.”

Gods, he was working for the Separatists. Dogma wished he had fought back harder, but all he did was whine into Krell’s touch. 

“Clone pups must be on the smaller side because, if I had put those four pups in you, you wouldn't be able to walk.” Krell growled, large hands moving all around as one traveled down to his thighs, “You do look delectable when you’re fat and full of pups. I’ll give you that, but I know you’ll look so much better with mine in you.” Krell cupped Dogma’s bump, absolutely amused by how it fit into his hands, “This little tummy has nothing on the proper bump you’ll have when I get my turn. Your body will be ruined with how small you are.”

Dogma squirmed as claws began to dig into his belly, but he couldn’t risk hurting the pups by moving too much. It was a show of how easily Krell would kill and replace them. The omega couldn’t risk saying no.

So, Dogma didn’t fight back when one of Krell’s hands began to spread his legs, the other three still firmly attached to his swollen middle. His feet were secure on the bed behind him as he was opened, the only thing supporting him were the arms he had wrapped around Krell’s neck. There was no lube in sight, but that didn’t stop Krell from fingering him. Dogma’s breath hitched as his legs were pushed further apart so that Krell could slip in two fingers. His eyes watered as Krell fucked him with a hand, in and out with those long, thick, calloused fingers. 

He knew he was flexible, he’s been informed but his mates several times, yet Krell was pushing him to the limits with how he continued to force his legs further apart. He was revealing Dogma in his entirety. 

It was by now that Krell lowered his pants to reveal that he was going commando, his dicks already hard and practically bursting out of the cloth. They were much thicker than Dogma imagined, like the Wookiee knot dildo Fox and Thorn had once plugged him up with, but Dogma took it without complaint. It was like being ripped in half, already tight and filled with just both of the tips in. 

He let out a mangled scream when Krell grabbed and forced him flush with his lap, every centimeter of Krell now lodged inside of him. It was too much, he couldn't…

Krell laid back on the bed, bringing Dogma with him. Dogma had no choice but to support himself by propping his hands on Krell’s chest, sweat glistening down his body. He hated the pleasurable gasps and moans the escaped his lips as he rode Krell, the pain becoming erotic the longer Krell was buried in him. His bump touched Krell’s stomach with every grind which Krell enjoyed too much for his liking. He especially loathed how Krell teased and groped the chub on his thighs. 

It’s when it is all over, Krell having filled him to the brim with his cum, that Dogma was finally allowed to let Krell out of him. He gasped at the empty filling followed by the slimy feeling of the white liquid dripping down his thighs. Dogma stepped off the bed the best he could without falling or faint, legs shaking and unsteady. He stood in the middle of the room, crying and cradling his belly. The pups were the only comfort he had. 

Krell gazed at him with amusement as the Jedi sat up before getting up off the bed. The Jedi didn’t bother covering up, the lower half of his body was as clear as day and Dogma strained to look away. He closed his eyes, shivering, as Krell went around the room to get another ration bar and pick up the clone’s clothes from the floor. He only opened his eyes again when he knew that Krell was headed toward him. Dogma didn’t want any more surprises tonight. 

Once the Jedi reached him, Krell wiped the tears away. The alpha gave him back his clothes and placed the ration bar on the top of the pile. Krell turned him around, lightly pushing him toward the showers, “Go get yourself dressed.” The alpha smacked his ass as he walked away, making him jump and hurry more than ever.

When the bathroom door was about to close behind him, Krell reminded him of the full scope of their deal. The Besalisk was a man of his word in some regards. 

“Make sure you keep those pups fed. Wouldn't want the rations to go to waste, would we?” Dogma could practically feel Krell’s eyes on his rear, his thighs, and the cum flowing down them. But, he continued until he was finally in the bathroom. The door shut behind him and he was finally alone. 

He sunk to the floor and sobbed, his pups’ kicking the only reminder that Krell hadn’t killed them. That he had kept them safe.

* * *

More and more favors piled up on Dogma’s schedule until he barely found himself away from Krell. He remembered getting bent over a desk while Aran and Sarad teamed up on his stomach. Both of them didn’t like how Krell was using their bu, but they would have to get used to it. Still in the womb, yet they were already so spoiled. It reminded Dogma of Ignatia. 

Force, he missed his pups. 

His quadruplets didn’t understand, they couldn’t understand, why their bu was allowing Krell to touch and fuck him. Dogma needed those rations more than ever because Krell was cutting even more now and no mysterious rations were showing up anymore. Krell was his only source of sustenance. 

Krell was providing for his family, reminding Dogma how they couldn’t live without him. The alpha could take them away if Dogma crossed a line, so Dogma would stray from even coming close to betraying his alpha. 

There were still the useless thoughts in his head over how he shouldn’t have ignored the signs, he shouldn’t have answered the summons. He could never talk to anyone, not Tup or Kix, about anything that was happening to him. In fear of speaking, he avoided everyone and went back into the isolation he so hated. 

Though, he was keeping his pups alive and that was his first, his only, priority. He may be dying, but they weren’t. At the very least the instinct to protect Yaim, Sarad, Enaar, and Aran was not broken like the rest of him. He had to make a choice and his gut screamed at him to protect his pups. He had to give them nutrients; Krell giving him rations in exchange for sex had its benefits, no matter how much Dogma despised it. 

He needed to feed his kids. That’s what Cyto told him to do. Dogma understood that, as long as he upheld his end of the deal, Krell would never hurt his pups. He had to keep them safe because they were the one thing keeping him going as he slowly spiraled and lost everything.

The others had noticed the extra ration. They whispered behind him about how he had gained Krell’s favor. He was manipulating the General and spreading his legs for the Besalisk like a whore. He thought the rumors about him would finally end, but he was wrong. 

It wasn’t like they were that far off. 

He was undeniably healthier than the other troopers. The color had come back to his cheeks as it drained from his eyes. Dogma had noticed that he had gotten softer around the edges he still had. Krell had spoken of how he preferred Dogma a bit more plump and it was getting harder to hide the pregnancy because of it. 

Krell claimed it was more fun to fuck him like that. 

For a man who promised to keep a secret, he sure as shit wasn’t good at it. Krell treaded the water of blatantly revealing his pregnancy. The alpha played with him in front of others. He had even grabbed Dogma’s ass before in front of Rex without the captain noticing. Even with the silence he had to maintain as he was felt up, Dogma had prayed Rex would see how scared he was. He still found himself hurting whenever Rex didn’t, when the Captain just turned to berate Fives or Hardcase on whatever osik they had started at the moment.

A lot of self-control was needed for Krell not to invite some of Dogma’s brothers to his quarters to watch the show, to see how perfect Dogma was with a belly stuffed with pups. However, Krell was a man of his word when the word benefited him. Doing a presentation like that would reveal the pregnancy. 

It didn’t stop him from suggesting it to Dogma though. 

Dogma would continue to be his good boy who he insulted and scarred, only to act like nothing had happened. Somehow the mental wounds were worse than the physical. He could get past the bite and claws marks on his torso, but Krell would always find him in his dreams. The omega couldn’t stand anyone being near him or contact or inclosed spaces. His body was even more revolting to him than ever before because Krell would constantly remind him of how pathetic and fat he was. 

Yet, he had to be good.

For the pups. 

~~Even if he wasn’t sure he cared about them anymore.~~

Thorn and Fox were going to be disgusted by him. He allowed someone to touch him and use him in ways they only should have been able to. Dogma was a whore, a slut, just like Krell had told him. Death was all he prayed for, regardless of his pups, and he hoped the next battle on Umbara would be his end or Agate would finally kill him like the glares had suggested. 

Dogma was breaking, this damn planet was breaking him and he wished more than anything to have his mates at his side and be safe in his den.

Kix had been trying to ask him if he was okay when the medic could reach him. Dogma understood how Kix had sent Tup his way as well, but Dogma couldn’t stop avoiding them. No one was to see him outside of battle anymore, no one could see the bump, because he couldn’t really wear his armor anymore unless necessary. 

He hated people staring at his body as it made him self-conscious. He had started taking showers and going to the refresher in Krell’s quarters on the General’s orders. It was nice not having everyone staring at him, but Krell was still there. Krell loved to watch him, the water running down his delicate and perfect figure. His alpha preferred how fluffy his hair felt when it wasn’t slicked back, soft like him. 

Dogma couldn’t risk the rebellious behavior of the rest of Torrent Company. If they continued going against Krell’s plans, the rage Krell had been holding in would be let out on Dogma and his pups. 

Rex’s “It’s captain, sir” had a lasting effect above where Fox had bonded him.

It was this reason that Dogma nearly had a panic attack when he notice Hardcase, Fives, and Jesse were missing from their bunks. 

_Fuck, they are going with their plan._

He had to alert Krell before they succeeded. 

He had the first real conversation with Tup since those early weeks on Umbara. Asking Tup to go with him had more to do with the thought that Krell wouldn't hurt him if there was another person rather than wanting to see his batchmate again. Nevertheless, the care he felt for Tup made itself clear when he started worrying about Krell using them both. 

He couldn’t do that to Tup. His batchmate had a brighter future than him. 

Dogma was relieved when Rex stopped them, their path to Krell had been spent in silence and Dogma hated he couldn't say what he wanted to, because it meant he could go back to his bunk. Let Rex deal with it. The judgement he received when Rex looked at him made his fists clench at his sides, but it was deserved. 

At least Tup wouldn't be anywhere near Krell. Tup had been exasperated by his request at the beginning. He had finally realized he was too good for Dogma, and he _was_. Tup shouldn’t be anywhere near a parasite like him. 

It was only a matter of time before Tup left, and Dogma was sad to see years worth of a relationship go down the drain. 

Everyone was right to hate him. 

As he walked back to the barracks, he thought about how it was all for the pups moving inside him. 

Little Yaim. 

Little Sarad.

Little Enaar. 

Little Aran.

He repeated their names until he calmed down. He couldn’t stop protecting them from Krell. He had to keep being a good, loyal trooper.

They were his first priority, something he would fight for until the end through every means possible. 

Even if he hated everything about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To get to the Clone Haven Discord server! It’s a friendly place for all Clone Wars fans and clone/clone shippers. 
> 
> Come talk about the ship with us, we DM about alternate endings and extras a lot of the time , and we love to talk about our fics and what we like to do with each other, just tag us in a clonecest channel we'd be more than happy to talk about not just FoxmaThorn, but 5up and Jessix as well as side ocs.
> 
> Copy and paste this link: https://discord.gg/zZsVuntr9h  
> 


	7. Medic v. Kamino’s Sexual Education

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So if you didn't vibe with the last chapter, the gist of it was that Krell is a major creep with a Dogma kink. The scene detailed Krell using Dogma's pups as blackmail material in order to solicit favors from Dogma in exchange for a) not outing Dogma as pregnant and b) not killing one of the pups.
> 
> Anywhoes, this is the aftermath, all in Kix's POV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: This chapter does deal with a stillbirth and some probable medical inaccuracies. It starts after the second bracket/line thing.

Kix’s full concentration was on the trooper in the bed, squirming underneath his hands as he tried to put a bacta patch on the small shrapnel wound that cut into his shoulder.

He heard a familiar hop-skip-slight-slip of Hardcase making his way to the medbay. Gods, he didn’t want to deal with this at the moment. He dismissed the other trooper with orders to come to him if his wound acted up. 

One of them should be spared. 

Kix sighed at Hardcase, looking at the other trooper.

“What do you want now, Hardcase?” he asked tiredly.

“I need to ask you a question.” The other trooper said, sitting on the biobed and leaning against the wall. 

“What?” Kix sighed, knowing where this was going.

“How do you tell someone, who doesn’t like anyone, that you like...like them?” 

Oh gods, will Hardcase ever let go? Kix turned to the other man, who was laying on the biobed dramatically.

“Is this about Dogma?”

Hardcase groaned loudly and slumped down on the bed, his head hitting the railing with a small thunk, “...Is it that obvious?” 

“Hardcase, you offered to share his heat at least ten times, and have openly pursued him since then,” Kix sighed, “You are the most obvious di’kut in the GAR.” 

“Then why isn’t it working?” Hardcase complained.

“Maybe because he doesn’t like you back?” Kix asked.

Hardcase gave him a deadpan, “Thanks, Kix.”

“Hardcase, he  _ doesn’t  _ like you like that.” 

“I seem to recall a certain someone hating the now parent of his child and riduur?” Hardcase smirked like that was a winning point.

“Everyone has a different situation ‘Case, and yours is hopeless,” Kix shrugged.

“But there’s always a chance for it.” 

“Not always Hardcase. If you keep bothering him, you won’t even have him as a friend.” 

Hardcase groaned and Kix knew that he was going to start waxing poetic about Dogma and how lonely he is, “Kix, he’s so hot. He's got an ass that won’t quit and the nicest chest. And...and he has like the cutest nose scrunch and I want to do all that disgustingly romantic shit that Fives and Tup do but with him. Like...he should be court-martialed for being that pretty, like, did the Kaminoans do that on purpose? I think they did, they had to have. He smells so delicious; I want to stick my nose in his neck and just smell him all day.” 

“Hardcase…” Kix sighed, knowing part two would begin soon.

“And his ass, Kix. Kix, his ass is so perfect. And his thighs, Kix! His thighs can crush my skull. Hells, his thighs can crush every part of my body and I would do nothing but thank him. Like Dogma can get it and I would very much like to give it to him.” 

Kix opened his mouth to tell him to please stop. Dogma was his ad, his baby brother, and he certainly did not want to hear about this. 

“He can sit on my face and suffocate me. Sometimes I wake up at night and imagine his lips wrapped around my-”

“ _ Hardcase _ !” 

“Gods, you know how pretty he would look begging? Maybe he’ll let me eat him out for a few hours!” He sat up before groaning and Kix was imagining he was anywhere but here. 

“I’ve popped three knots,  _ three,  _ to the thought of him, and that’s only been this week,” Hardcase whined.

“Hardcase, I don’t know what to say,” Kix sighed, “I cannot magically give him feelings for you.” 

_ And even if I could, I would only allow it over my dead body. _

“But you can talk to him, put in a good word?” 

“Fine,”  _ he wasn’t, _ “Get out of my office.”

Hardcase made his way out and Kix resisted the urge to bury his head in his hands and scream. Instead, he reached over to comm Jesse, figuring if he was going to suffer then Jesse would suffer alongside him.

“...Hardcase?” was the first thing Jesse said when he picked up the comm.

“If I hear another thing about Dogma’s ass, I’m going to make sure Hardcase ceases breathing,” Kix grumbled, rearranging the bacta patches in his kit as he tried to make room for more sedatives. 

Jesse grunted in agreement, clearly as sick of it as he was. Probably heard it about on a more regular basis than he did. 

“Oh, he hasn’t told you about Dogma’s thighs of glory? How he wants them wrapped around his waist and grinding against him moaning ‘Hardcase, Hardcase’ over and over again until Hardcase gets him off at least two times, and Hardcase knots him, and knocks him up nice and good, and gets him fat on his pups?” Jesse’s eye roll was evident and Kix agreed wholeheartedly. 

“Jesse, I’m a comment away from slapping Hardcase back to Kamino to learn some damn manners,” Kix hissed. 

Jesse’s sympathetic nod told him the same and Kix continued, “If Dogma attacks Hardcase in the refresher again, film it for me and hold the Captain back.” 

“Bold of you to assume that the Captain won’t be rooting for him.” Jesse’s response was true, especially now that the Captain knew why Dogma was attacking.

“Keep him away from Dogma, will you?” Kix finally asked, rubbing his face. 

Jesse agreed quietly and Kix thanked him. 

* * *

The doors opened and Kix looked over to see Dogma walking in. The younger clone seemed slightly surprised that Kix was here, cocking his head tiredly and giving him a small smile. 

“Kix,” Dogma greeted wearily. 

“Dogma.” 

Gods, how no one else knew he was pregnant was amazing to Kix. The scent of sweet milk caused Kix to lean into the pup.

He wanted to check on the kid; there were definitely three or more growing in there. Kix’s grandpups would be born soon, and he was excited about it. 

But, Force, Kix wanted to know who knocked Dogma up. What dumbass would knock up a practical shiny with pups? Kix was going to take some shots and Rex would be bailing him out of jail. 

Kix had plans, big ones. 

They involved murder. Lots of murder. 

And some blood to spice things up. 

Dogma yawned quietly and Kix had to ask, “Are you alright?” 

Kix flinched back as Dogma suddenly seemed to wake up from whatever fugue he was in. He squinted at Kix as if the gauge on how sincere he was actually being. Kix wasn’t sure how to think of that, but he’ll take it if it meant that Dogma was talking to him instead of brooding. 

“I’m fine.” 

A very short, clipped, and one-word answer. Reflective of what Dogma had been giving everyone as of late. 

Kix would be concerned if he hadn’t been able to recognize hormones. He understood the anger and pain that caused one to want to lash out at whatever was near. Being in such a high-stress environment while carrying probably wasn’t the ideal situation to be in. 

He could only pray that Dogma was being diligent with the care of his pups and their development. 

Kix nodded, not wanting to poke the rancor anymore than strictly necessary. He hoped that Dogma was doing alright, rations had been especially hard to come by as of late, and both himself and Tup have had difficulties in giving Dogma the extras.

Somehow, Dogma was managing to nourish the babies. Kix had seen him indulgently touching his bump on occasion or having a hand running over it, nails barely grazing where his armor bound his stomach. The armor kept his pups safe but put Dogma in permanent discomfort. 

Kix had been meaning to ask him about that, offer a few tips that he had used with Coyote. Unfortunately, he hadn’t been able to find Dogma while he was off-duty. 

He had heard the rumors that Dogma was getting fucked in exchange for rations. He didn’t know how to feel about them. No...he did. They were bullshit. 

Kix was still pissed at Jesse’s bullshit rations comment. What the fuck had he been thinking? Dogma was so obviously pregnant it was astounding that no one had figured it out on their own save for Kix. Honestly, it made sense that he was gaining weight during the ration shortage, the little nutrients that he was receiving were going straight to his pups. 

Of course, he’s going to grow, especially with multiples. 

Gods, the stupidity of these men...

And, even then, the rumors of Dogma being  _ with _ Krell like that were...disgusting. Not to be rude, but Krell was the ugliest motherfucker in the galaxy and anyone could quote Kix on that. He would rather be fucked by the Chancellor than  _ Krell _ . Not to mention, while Dogma was a lot of things, a cheater and a seductress was not one of those things, despite what Hardcase said...used to say. 

Hardcase was gone, and that was something Kix didn’t know how to process yet. Hardcase, who was an ever-motivating and joyful presence to have around, despite his infatuation with Dogma, was a valued friend to Kix and he would miss him. He  _ was _ missing him. 

Part of Kix was waiting for Hardcase to come sauntering through the medbay, with a new plan to seduce his “future mate” or whatever explosive prank he was planning on playing on some poor bastard who had become his target of the hour.

Thoughts of Hardcase brought him to thoughts of Jesse and Fives. Both men were sitting in a cell, which by no means they belonged in. They should be given medals, not a court-martial. The only thing Kix could hope for was a fair trial, but he highly doubted it. Fives and Jesse would get off, he knew that General Skywalker had a lot of influence in the GAR, and to dispose of Fives and Jesse, two senior troopers, would be a blow onto the Army. 

“He wants to execute them,” Dogma confessed quietly and Kix snapped back into attention, looking at Dogma with surprise and dread.

“What?”

Dogma’s eyes turned cold and dull, shadows underneath them and his gaunt cheekbones were obvious in the stark white lighting of the medbay. His eyes searched Kix for  _ something _ .

“The General, he believes that Fives and Jesse should be executed.” Dogma said, finite and precise as if he was talking about the weather or how to properly clean a blaster...not executing brothers. 

Dogma cocked his head at Kix, waiting for his reaction with curiosity. Kix didn’t know what to make of it. He felt like he was being studied, like his reactions were being cataloged.

He forced himself to calm down, to try and not scream about the sheer craziness of the situation and the complete lack of thought that went into it. 

Fives and Jesse were heroes for kark’s sake. 

“How do you know about this?” He asked, in near hysterics but knew it was the best one to go with. 

“Overheard the General talking with Captain Rex,” Dogma confided, nose twitching slightly and Kix didn’t know what that really meant. 

Despite what some people say, Dogma was semi-decent at lying when he needed to be. It was something that Kix never truly was able to note until recently. 

When Dogma was blatantly lying, he shifted from his right to left and picked at his greaves. 

When he was pulling something random out of his ass, he had a slight stutter and slurred his words, just a little. It had to be something that was looked for, otherwise, it would usually go unnoticed. 

“What  _ exactly  _ did he say?” 

Dogma narrowed his eyes slightly, shifting on his heels and tensing his shoulders as he averted eye contact. 

“I don’t… I don’t actually know,” Dogma started, “All I heard was Pon...the General telling the Captain about no longer doing a court-martial and replacing it with capital punishment.” 

This was...osik. 

Kix was going to lose Jesse. 

_ No _ .

He couldn’t lose his riduur, not like this. Not ever. 

If Jesse died, he would surely take Kix’s heart with him.

Kark, what would happen to Coyote? Would he be orphaned? Forgotten? Forget Kix and Jesse? 

Kix...didn’t want that. 

He couldn’t lose Jesse. 

And, Dogma was still standing there awkwardly. 

“Why did you want to tell me this?” Kix forced out, trying to reel everything in. He had long since heard the “don’t shoot the messenger” philosophy, and Dogma was only giving him a forewarning. He figures he should appreciate it as it gave him more time to prepare for the eventuality. 

“I-I just thought…” Dogma stuttered out before going slightly cold, “I thought you’d like to have a bit of a warning.”

Dogma turned on his heel, whirling out of the medbay and leaving a disaster zone in Kix’s head. 

Kix collapsed into his chair as if this damn campaign could get any damn worse. 

_ ‘Apparently, it could get pretty damn worse’.  _ Kix thought as he made eye contact with Jesse. He stared at his riduur, the father of his child, with hopeless abandon. He was going to die here and take Kix’s heart with him. 

Tup stood on his left. It was close enough for Kix to see his hands shaking as he held the rifle close, attempting to ground himself. It was obvious what this was: an attempt to keep them in line and make sure the rest of them don’t act out in order.

Dogma and Rex were side by side staring at the pair of troopers, one with weariness and the other blank. Dogma’s eyes were cold, golden eyes dull as he watched Fives and Jesse move to the center. His gaze was colder than Hoth and posture somehow stiffer than usual. 

He merely cocked his head as Fives called him out, stood still and straight as Fives gave his speech that Kix agreed to every word of. He hoped Dogma would before it was too late. 

Dogma’s narrowed eyes merely stared cooly at Fives and Jesse as he gave the order.

Something that should be known about Kix, was that he was a doctor, not a marksman. His aim was a  _ little _ off, always had been. He was more precise in the aiming of a sedative over a rifle. 

Krell should’ve considered that before putting him on this squad was all Kix had to say. 

It seemed everyone was feeling ill or something on this dreary day. It was probably the weather if Kix could guess, but it seemed everyone had a collective awful aim during this truly terrible hour. 

Oh well.

How  _ tragic _ .

It especially seemed tragic to Dogma, who looked very nervous all of the sudden. Kix’s interest was very piqued, this wasn’t an “oh, I’ve fucked up” nervousness but...fear? 

His ad was going to be afraid when Kix got his hands on him. The sheer stupidity of that...leading an execution against his own brothers was a quick way to get yourself disowned. Gods, what was Dogma’s karking problem. 

First alerting Kix to this, then leading the execution, and now looking nervous. What was he playing at? 

Rex seemed to take initiative, barking orders to put Fives and Jesse back in their cells and practically dragging Dogma off. The other trooper was looking up into space. Dogma was slightly disoriented but was able to walk after Rex, whispering something to the Captain. Rex looked resigned, disappointment in his eyes, and Dogma didn’t bat an eyelid at this. 

Kix was going to give everyone a piece of his mind when he was through with Krell first and foremost. 

He threw the rifle to the ground and led all the other brothers out. They were due for some rest and recuperation after this ordeal. Especially Tup, whose legs had joined his still shaking hands as he tried to take a step.

Kix tapped their shoulders and Tup gave him a noncommittal grunt, letting Kix lead him off to the ‘fresher. 

* * *

“Rex, repeat what you said. One more time, just so I can process how stupid it all sounded,” Kix gritted his teeth, turning to the captain. He hoped his expression conveyed the rage he was feeling, not his worry. He wanted Rex to feel like a dumbass, not start wallowing. 

“He’s...er...in a prison cell…” Rex fidgeted.  _ Good _ , Rex knew exactly what was going to happen as soon as Kix got Dogma out and checked him over and all was well. 

“And...why might I ask...is he in a prison cell?” 

Rex gave him a slight look, incredulous with a tinge of fear. It was not a good look on him, and Kix didn’t care. Looks should be the last thing that should be on Rex’s mind when Kix is through with him.

“...He executed the General…”

Kix froze. The whole room became a blur as he whirled on Rex, seeing nothing but pure red rage. 

“He did  _ what _ .” His voice edged sharp and dangerous, fists clenching and Rex took a hesitant step back.

“Dogma...killed General Krell.”

Kix’s nails dug into his palms as he took a step towards Rex.

“And you left him in that cell? Knowing his condition?” His voice pitched at that last part.  _ Condition _ , as if Dogma’s pregnancy could be attributed to a mere fever or small bacterial infection, not the fact he was growing humans. That took energy and put Dogma through an emotional ringer.

As soon as Kix got Dogma out and checked up, he was going to shove Rex into an airlock and space him.

Rex attempted to flounder his way through an explanation but Kix didn’t listen. He had already grabbed a medkit and walked out, making a beeline for the cells. No one would stop him, not a confused Jesse, not a glum Tup, and not an annoying Captain, who was trying to stop him or at the very least get him to slow down.

Kix was having none of it, moving to the side only to glare at Rex as a way to prompt him to punch in his code to let Kix in. 

The Captain’s common sense must have been working miraculously. Rex Kix in with no protest and stood back to allow Kix to rush in, waiting on the lift. Tapping his foot in annoyance and anxiety as Rex took his sweet karking time to get on, he put in the access codes to get him to Dogma’s cell. 

They slowly moved down, and Kix met the glares of the Umbaran prisoners head-on. These people executed his brothers like animals, and it was only fair they were caged as them in Kix’s opinion. 

When they finally got to Dogma’s cell, the scent of rotting flesh invaded Kix’s nose. He looked over at Krell’s corpse that was just laying in the cell next to Dogma, unmoving and dragged with the bare minimum of care. 

It was what the bastard deserved. 

The only problem he had with the scene was in the cell next door. Dogma was curled in the opposite corner, fear and copper and pain broadcasting in his scent. 

“Open it,” Kix ordered through gritted teeth. He turned to Rex, watching as he did whatever he was supposed to do in order to open the cell.

As soon as the energy shield faded, the scent of death and copper hit him full force. The room froze as his mind caught up to his nose.

He recognized this smell.

He knew it intimately, one of the worst wounds he had ever had to treat. One of the things Kix hated working with the most. 

A young trooper, shiny, went through his first battle unaware he was pregnant. The kid had come to Kix sobbing his eyes out as blood covered his thighs and stained his armor.

He smelt the same as Dogma did now. 

Kix immediately rushed to Dogma’s side. The younger trooper moaned weakly as Kix nudged his shoulder, attempting to rouse him. Kix started removing Dogma’s chest plate, steadily removing the rest of Dogma’s blue painted armor as Rex dismissed the few troopers guarding the cells and approached Kix slowly. The scent probably got to him too.

“Help me remove his armor,” Kix growled.

Rex nodded numbly and began to help Kix take off the armor. When Kix got to his thigh guard, he winced at the feeling of something warm and wet on his fingertips. He pulled back and cringed at the red staining his fingertips. 

The Captain looked alarmed by it as if the truth of the situation was finally getting to him.

“If you throw up, I’ll kill you.” 

“Noted,” Rex murmured, looking away from Kix’s hand and back to helping Kix remove Dogma’s armor. 

Kix shoved Dogma’s boot to the side, leaving the trooper in just his blacks. Kix fidgeted for a minute, unsure of what to do.

“If I had an ultrasound,” Kix started.

“Not the time Kix.” 

Kix scoffed and started pulling off Dogma’s top, shushing the trooper as he whined underneath him. Rex sat to the side, hand in Dogma’s hair as he did what he could to comfort him.

He hummed softly and Dogma whined and tried to curl on himself. 

Kix’s body moved before he could catch up and he grabbed a scalpel. He slowly cut into Dogma’s blacks taking his top off with ease. 

His hands shook as he saw the marks on Dogma’s torso: scratches that dug into skin; dark red of broken blood vessels in his shoulders, appearing on his hips; and four parallel lines across Dogma’s soft bump, irritating the skin around it. There were bruises all over Dogma, huge hands that could only belong to one person on this base. 

And Kix didn’t like it one bit. Dogma turned again, worn to the bone but still attempting to curl in on himself. 

But in turning his neck Kix caught a glimpse of a bonding mark. A trooper’s, thank the gods, but what truly caught Kix’s attention was the small line across his neck, right above the bond. Red and bumpy, so it wasn’t a scratch. Kix knew that. 

It was a burn.

Gods, Kix could only imagine the origin of it, and none of them were particularly pleasant.

His hands shook as he decided what to do.

“I need to freehand it.”

Rex’s eyes bulged as he turned from Dogma’s belly to Kix’s eyes. 

“Can you-”

“I have to try,” Kix said, “The pup will hurt the others if they remain there.”

Dogma whined, and Kix was reminded that he was there. Probably shouldn’t talk about this in front of Dogma. He couldn’t exactly walk out and consult the other medics.

“Thigh holster, sedatives,” Kix said, moving to Dogma’s other side and Rex reaching into Kix’s hoster and grabbing the sedatives. 

“Neck, right above the gland.”

Rex nodded and pushed Dogma's head to the other side. Dogma didn’t seem to agree with that decision, but the trooper didn’t have a say and Rex needed to sedate him. 

He coughed slightly at the other bonding mark on Dogma’s neck. 

_ Two _ bonding marks. Both were troopers; Dogma had two mates.

Kix took a breath and then cleared a throat, prompting Rex to put the damn needle in him. Gods, Rex was useless. 

Dogma was trying to struggle away weakly. His body twisted awkwardly as he tried to break Rex’s iron grip. 

“Rex,” Kix hissed. 

Rex apologized and quickly pressed the sedative to his neck. The pair watched as Dogma’s trembling slowed down until it eventually capped off, the kid slumping in Rex’s arms.

Kix immediately went to work, pressing a scalpel to Dogma’s swollen belly. His hands shook slightly as he attempted to compose himself. 

“Should we be doing this now,” Rex whispered, “Should we wait for someone else-”

“No,” Kix asserted, short and stern. He understood what Rex was trying to say, and maybe he was right. Kix was very emotionally attached to the situation at hand, and there was a higher chance he would make a choice that was not in Dogma’s best interest because of his own desires. He had seen it happen with other medics. Kix knew that if it came down to it, he hoped he would recognize that desire. 

He took another breath and explained, “As long as the pup is in there, there is a higher chance of the other pups being hurt in the long run.”

Rex nodded and sat back, supporting his weight on Dogma’s shoulders to hold him down so Kix could do what needed to be done. 

“Ni ceta,” Kix whispered, before finally cutting in.

He tried to ignore Dogma’s screaming and sobbing, tried to ignore the  _ wrong wrong wrong _ that buzzed incessantly at the back of his mind. He tried to ignore the warm blood crusting along his fingers and wrists. 

He worked as fast as he could, going back and forth with a needle until what he opened was closed. He tried not to dwell on what he saw, just grabbed the unmoving body and worked to stitch Dogma up as fast as humanly possible. 

When it was all said and done, Kix sat back on his heels. Rex seems to do the same, relaxing his grip on Dogma’s shoulders.

Somehow, through adrenaline or just awful luck, Dogma was still semi-aware and conscious. The other trooper had foggy eyes cracked open slightly. His body shuddered slightly but, otherwise, he hadn’t moved since initially being held down.

“Aran,” Dogma whimpered, somehow still conscious enough to identify the pup that Kix took out of him. He was able to process the fact that Kix removed the baby, “Vaii cuyir ner Aran?”

His breathing sped up as he attempted to move around, searching for his son. Rex promptly moved to hold Dogma down before he opened the stitches and bled out on the floor.

Kix wrapped his bu’ik’aad in the shirt of their bu. He strained not to look at the pup, for he didn’t know what would happen if he did. 

He would’ve been ill most definitely, and that wouldn’t be beneficial to the cause at the moment.

Force, the pup was so light, barely weighed anything, and smelt of death. This child would never live to see outside his bu’s womb, never take his first breath, never learn to walk, and never grow up with his siblings and buire. 

_ It wasn’t fair.  _

No one this young should have to suffer this, both in Dogma and Aran’s case. 

He slowly stood up, keeping the pup cradled in his arms. Kix stared down at Dogma who was searching desperately for his son. His ad whined and called out for a baby who would never respond. 

Rex stood at his side, scent desolate and grieved, and Kix couldn’t help but feel the same. He reached into one of his thigh holsters and grabbed another sedative, handing it to Rex.

“I trust you know how to use this? Make it faster than before.” he rasped.

Rex nodded, not even asking him where he would be going or why he couldn’t have done it himself. Just took it without complaint and looked down at Dogma, who was still struggling in his grip. 

Kix didn’t stay to watch; he couldn’t have. He just aimlessly walked down the halls, his grandpup safe in the crook of his arm. 

He couldn’t protect him while he was alive, but he would do his damnedest to make sure his body was safe in death.

The white walls of the medbay didn’t surprise him, but he wished he was in a place less clinical, less refined than here. It was too well maintained, too clean and sterile for him to tolerate, not when looking at the mess his life has become. 

He sat down on one of the beds, leaning against the wall and moving the bundle so the pup was firmly in Kix’s arms.

“Ni su’cuyi, gar kyr’adyc, ni paratayli, gar darasuum,” he murmured.

Kix held the pup as delicately as he would’ve if he were still alive. He knew it wasn’t healthy, knew he should prepare the body either for cremation or begin the burial process, but he needed this. A reminder of his failure as not just a brother but as a parent and a medic. The signs were all there, and he saw them but never acted. 

And now he had a dead pup and his hysterical parent. 

Fuck, Kix wondered how the other parent would react when they learned that their son had died by the incompetence of one of the supposedly most qualified battalions in the GAR.

Kix tried to speak, tried to say anything. Maybe the pup stuck around, watching over his bu before he went to take his place in the stars, maybe he was confused and scared and...Kix didn’t really know how souls worked. But, he figured that if the pup did stick around, it would be nice to hear something other than silence. 

“Ni ceta,” he finally whispered, “Aran.”

It was a beautiful name. Aran.  _ Guard _ . He wondered the significance it had to Dogma. Or was it the father’s decision? Was the other parent a Guard? It would make a little sense. 

Ar’ika, Kix wishes that they would’ve met. 

He pushed down the cloth covering the top of Aran’s head, giving the small patch of skin a light kiss while tears streamed from his eyes. 

“Ni ceta,” he sobbed, “Ni ceta Ar’ika, ni ru'kir ganar gaa'tayl.” 

The bundle remained unmoving in his arms as Kix broke, clutching the tiny body close to him. 

Kix hugged the body closer as the door opened, not even bothering to look up as he heard Tup’s hesitant footsteps. It was the movement of a trooper who was still getting used to the base and the order of things. 

“Kix?” Tup’s shaky voice caused Kix to look up slightly.

Tup’s hair was tied up in a hasty bun, strands of hair wisping across his face. He was gasping heavily, hunched over as he tried to catch his breath. 

“Is it...is it?” Tup slowly approached Kix slowly, hands shaking slightly as he peered at the bundle in Kix’s arms, “Is that...is it true?” 

Kix’s throat closed, the words weren’t coming as he tried to figure out what to say about this. The news would spread, Kix had known that, but he didn’t think that it would all happen so fast. He thought that he would have a few more days to cope on his own before Jesse or Fives opened their big mouths. 

He hoped to have a few days to prepare an explanation for Tup. That his brother was pregnant and one of his children was dead. And that the pup in his arms was that baby.

He nodded, that was the only thing he could do and Tup’s legs shook as his eyes widened. Kix leaned over so he could catch Tup with his shoulder before he fell to the floor. Tup’s breathing was quicker, his eyes were wide as he tried to peak over Kix’s arm to see his nephew’s body.

“Is...is he…?” Tup asked, gesturing to Kix’s arms. 

Kix nodded again and Tup lurched forward with a hushed  _ no _ . A fresh wave of tears began to cause Kix’s eyes to sting. 

Tup reached for his nephew and Kix held Aran closer, shaking his head. Tup made a small noise, saying something unintelligible. 

Kix shook his head again and Tup broke on his arm, his hands quivering.

“Tup…” 

Tup’s eyes met Kix’s as he snapped his head up to look at him. 

“Kix,” he said seriously.

“Don’t,” Kix choked out, holding Aran closer and making sure he was secure. 

“Kix,” Tup began to sob, “Please...please let me-”

Tup’s blabbering turned into full-on sobbing as he tried to reach for his nephew’s body once more. Kix kept the small,  _ small _ , body secure and snug in the crook of his elbow.

Kix refused to traumatize Tup any further by letting him hold his nephew. He would get the opportunity to meet the other pups that he had seen while trying to get to Aran.

He wondered what Dogma named them, if he had at all. 

Aran had a name, so he imagined Dogma had put the same care into the others.

Tup was still crying on his shoulder, and Kix knew it was almost time to let go of Aran and allow him to cross fully into the Manda, both in body and soul. He didn’t know if Dogma would be allowed out of the cell or if he should even go out to bury the pup, but Kix knew deep down it was going to be just him, Tup, and Rex. 

The room around Kix began to blur, sobbing and the whirr of medical machinery began to combine as Kix began to weep with Tup. 

Tup was whispering something that Kix couldn’t pick up, his lips were moving but nothing but choked sobs came out, but Kix understood the sentiment all the same.

Would anything ever be alright again? 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some more DM convos that we had written and were just funny af 
> 
> “I need to ask you a question.” The other trooper said, sitting on the biobed and leaning against the wall.  
> “What?” Kix sighed, knowing where this was going.  
> "To what extent does Dogma’s ass prove that humanity has peaked?" Hardcase grumbled.  
> "Wha-"  
> "Like does it all go downhill from here?" His smile became mischevious, "because I would like to go down on him."  
> "Hardcase-"  
> "Kix his ass is as thicc as the stalest ration."  
> "What does that even-"  
> "He's thicker than an AP Seminar Task 2 packet," Hardcase sighed dreamily, "what I would give to have that
> 
> A text:  
> Dem peaches 🍑 still ain't as juicy 💦 and thicc 🍆as Dogma 😩👌  
> -Hardcase
> 
> A handwritten letter:  
> Hardcase sends this to Dogma 🥺👉👌  
> My Dearest, Dogma,  
> May you allow me to violently release into your womb while eliciting pleasure uwu  
> Best of love,  
> Hard  
> case
> 
> And some nice poetry:  
> Dogma, you be so goddamn thicc  
> I wish you would let me put my dicc  
> Inside you while I licc  
> Your vry nice lipp  
> Gonna take a tripp  
> Not gonna slipp  
> From the juicy dripp
> 
> I want to make babies👶in your perfect ass🍑😩😩💦  
> Pwease 🍑🍑🍑 baby 🥺👉👈boiii 😩💦💦💦💦😄🥰  
> Let me come in that amazing ass 🍆💦💦🍑🍑  
> So get it over here 🥺for some good 😏👌pounding 💦🍆  
> Going to break the bed🛌 with your glorious cheeks 🍑🍑💦😩  
> Eat your juicy💦💦💦ass🍑🍑 like I'm starving 😩😩😩  
> Going to get my skull crushed between your thighs of glory 😩😩👌  
> Sincerely,  
> Hard 😏


End file.
